#(something many people never bother to feel)

[lyricwritesprose]

At first, I really did think it was just because Landon had been struck by lightning. That was where I found him, you see—in the middle of Bryley's Woods, in a clearing, where it sure looked like lightning had struck and set things on fire. I am still not sure why he called me for help, considering that I have all the reasons in the world to tell him where to get off—except I'm increasingly thinking it might be because my name is Aashvonne (blame my Mom) and that puts me at the very top of his contact list.

The thing is, Landon was not a good guy. And I'm not just talking about all the things he put me through, I'm talking about everyone. Pretty much everyone knew that if you loaned Landon money you'd never see it again, that if he gave his word on something he'd have gone back on it by sundown and accuse you of lying about it, and the less said about his string of relationships the better. But the few anecdotes I've heard about being struck by lightning, there are sometimes personality changes or at least a renewed perspective on life, so I wasn't that surprised to find him unusually quiet rather than raucous and overly friendly. I tried to talk him into going to a doctor, but I wasn't going to try to wrestle with him about it.

We live in the same apartment complex, though, so Landon was there when we dug the stray kitten out of the dumpster—in fact, he did a lot of the digging, which shocked the hell out of me. Landon, willingly making himself dirty when someone else could be bothered into doing the work for him? We brought the poor little thing into Landon's apartment (which was astonishingly clean considering that he was between girlfriends) and drew a bath. The kitten let out a long drawn out wail.

Landon startled me by making the exact same sound back at him.

I have to admit, I jumped slightly. People meow back at cats, but they usually don't meow like cats. Not to that extent. "I think that means he's unhappy," Landon added.

"He's covered in shit," I said, "literally. Here, I think I've got the water right, hand him over." I looked at the kitten. "Also I think he may be a she. Ginger and white, that's a female pattern, isn't it?"

"You're the expert on cats, Vonnie," Landon said. The kitten made another protest as I put her into the warm water and tried a gentle scrub. Landon repeated that one, too, with just as uncanny a degree of mimicry. "Sorry, I'll stop. I don't think there's a huge amount of meaning in it anyway. Just, 'unhappy, unhappy, knock it off.'"

"You are going to be much happier if you're clean, dingus," I told the kitten. She was deeply unimpressed.

After that—and after Landon, who had always said he disliked cats, adopted Her Ladyship Dingus Creamsicle Loudly Von Dumpster, I started paying a little more attention.

Landon had a magnificent ability to make it through a conversation with someone without much information on where he knew them from, or indeed, in many cases, their name. I probably wouldn't have noticed except that I'm so bad with names and faces that I had to pick up a few tricks. He was using them all.

He was also using, I don't know, slightly lawyerly language. He'd hedge his bets rather than outright promising something. Which, on the bright side, meant less extravagant promises, so it wasn't a bad thing, just—different.

And he wasn't going out at night. Like. Virtually at all. From a guy who used to be all about clubs and parties, that was actually a pretty big change.

There had been a few strange things happening around town, for sure—the weirdest, and also closest to the apartments, being a couple of cops being chased away by "ball lightning" when they had been threatening a Deaf Black kid for not immediately complying—but I had no reason to connect any of that stuff to Landon. Until I came down with flu. (And yes, I got the shot, but that happened to a lot of people last winter; sometimes an unexpected strain wins, for whatever reason.) Sick as a dog, fragile-feeling as a horse—Landon was the last person I would have asked for help before, but then, he was a bit different now.

And he was lovely to me. Fed me soup, brought me my toothbrush at my bedside, all sorts of caretaking stuff. I wasn't even thinking of the changes in him until I was ready to go to sleep that night, and he said, "Good night, Vonnie," and turned off the light—

And I saw that his eyes were glowing emerald green. Not like a cat's eyes. Could have sworn these were lit up from within.

There was a frozen moment. I think we were both wondering what he would do to preserve the secret. Personally, I was also thinking about the ball lightning those cops encountered. They'd said it was green, not green-tinted, but a deep, saturated color. Like this.

"Is." I swallowed. "Is there anything else you want me to call you? You know. Like a nickname."

"It's just Landon." Landon sounded a bit unsteady, as if I'd scared the shit out of him too, by seeing.

"Okay. I'm cool with that."

"There—wasn't much left of the old Landon. When I got there. But he did want to do better, to be better—to have a second chance, I guess. Which is why…" He trailed off. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to figure that out myself," I said. Fuck of an emotional brick to hit someone with, but I suppose it was emotional bricks all the way down. "Landon? Thanks for coming over. With the soup."

I couldn't quite tell from the light in the hallway, or the glow from his eyes, but I think he smiled and relaxed a little bit. "Anytime I can."

Your “friend” has been replaced by a doppelgänger. You aren’t sure where it came from or what it is under the disguise. But you know one thing; you prefer it over the original.

[halfmoonaria]

change of plans

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara was going to take care of it—end things for good—but nothing went the way she planned.

word count: 9.6k

warnings: dark themes, murder intent, violence, strong language, intrusive thoughts, implied stalking.

Tara didn't think she was a jealous person.

She was sure of it, actually.

Jealousy wasn't something she dealt with, at least not in the same way other people did. She told herself she wasn't the type to stew over what someone else had or waste time feeling resentful.

But looking back, there were moments—small, fleeting ones—that didn't quite fit the version of herself she liked to believe in.

When she was little, the first spark of that unfamiliar emotion would hit when someone snatched a toy out of her hands. It wasn't sadness or disappointment—it was sharper, hotter, and before she even realized what she was doing, she'd yank the toy back, sometimes with enough force to send the other kid stumbling.

She didn't mean to hurt them, not really, but the instinct to make things fair—or at least fair by her standards—was too strong to ignore.

Her teachers called it "trouble controlling her temper." Her mom called it a "phase." But it kept happening.

There was the time in first grade when another girl in her class got to play the fairy princess during dress-up. Tara had been stuck with the frog costume.

She'd sulked in the corner, watching the other girl twirl around in sparkly wings, until something inside her snapped. The girl didn't see it coming when Tara stomped up, grabbed the glittery wand, and broke it clean in two.

She didn't even regret it until she was sitting in the principal's office with her mom glaring at her from across the room.

By the time she was nine, Tara had lost count of how many times she'd been dragged to the teacher's office. Sometimes it was for yanking a classmate's hair after they showed off a new toy she didn't have. Other times, it was for shoving someone too hard during recess when she thought they were bragging about something they shouldn't have.

Her teachers always asked the same question: "Why did you do it, Tara?"

She never had a good answer.

Her mom tried everything—calming techniques, time-outs, grounding her from TV or playdates—but none of it worked.

The truth was, Tara didn't know why it bothered her so much when someone else got what she wanted. All she knew was that the feeling burned in her chest, hot and heavy, until she had to do something to let it out.

She couldn't pinpoint what the feeling was, not even as she got older—when she was supposed to be able to handle her emotions better, to control the bursts of anger and the bubbling rage that seemed to come out of nowhere.

It wasn't jealousy though. She was sure of that.

Jealousy felt petty, childish, like something people dealt with in middle school when they saw someone else wearing the same pair of shoes but in a better color. Tara wasn't petty, and she definitely wasn't childish. At least, that's what she told herself every time the heat rose to her face, her fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms, and her vision blurred with that same fiery haze she'd felt since kindergarten.

It didn't make sense to call it jealousy. Jealousy implied weakness, didn't it? Like you couldn't be happy for someone else because you wanted what they had. Tara didn't think she wanted what anyone else had—she just hated the idea that they had it at all.

She didn't think it was anywhere close to jealousy—not until Chad broke up with her.

At first, all she felt was heartbreak, raw and overwhelming, the kind of sadness that made her chest feel hollow and heavy all at once. There was anger too, bubbling beneath the surface, but she pushed it down, unwilling to let him see that part of her. Tara told herself that staying calm was the only way to keep control of the situation, even as she listened to him try to explain himself.

He had said he didn't feel the same anymore, that something between them had changed. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but he no longer felt the love they once had. His voice had been quiet, hesitant, as if he didn't want to hurt her more than he already was. He told her it wasn't her fault, that she'd been a great girlfriend and that he still cared about her.

The words sounded like they should've been comforting, but they weren't. They only made her feel worse. Love didn't just disappear, did it? And if it did, what did that say about her? She couldn't wrap her head around how everything could change so quickly, how something that had seemed so solid could slip through her fingers without warning.

For days after the breakup, she replayed his words in her mind, searching for some clue, some sign she might have missed. The sadness lingered, a constant ache she couldn't shake, and when the anger flared, she shoved it back down where it belonged. It wouldn't change anything, and it wouldn't bring him back.

At first, she thought heartbreak was all she'd have to contend with. But then, as the days stretched into weeks, another feeling began to creep in—something darker, sharper, and impossible to ignore.

That dark, sharper, and impossible-to-ignore feeling had only grown worse. In fact, it had become unbearable when she saw Chad a few weeks later.

With you.

She hadn't been prepared for it. In hindsight, maybe she should've been. They had gone to the same school—it had only been a matter of time before she ran into him again. But Tara hadn't expected him to look so... fine. Like nothing had happened. Like breaking up with her hadn't fazed him in the slightest. And she especially hadn't expected to see him with someone else.

You had been standing next to him near the lockers, your body slightly turned toward his as you spoke. She hadn't been able to hear what you were saying, but whatever it had been, it had made him laugh. That same, familiar laugh that had once been hers to hear.

Her chest had tightened, the weight of it pressing down on her like a physical force. It had been the first time she had seen him since the breakup, and heartbreak hadn't been what she had felt then. No, it had been something else entirely. It had been hot and all-consuming, curling its way through her like wildfire.

Her gaze had locked on the way you had reached out, your fingers briefly brushing his arm as you spoke. It had been such a casual, effortless gesture, but to Tara, it had felt deliberate. She had clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she had struggled to steady her breathing.

She hadn't wanted to look at you. She hadn't wanted to acknowledge the way your presence, your closeness to Chad, had made her feel. But she hadn't been able to tear her eyes away.

It hadn't been fair. Chad wasn't supposed to move on so quickly. He wasn't supposed to look this happy, not when she had still been trying to piece herself back together. And you—God, you hadn't been supposed to be so... perfect. So at ease, standing there with him like you had belonged.

Tara's stomach had churned, a bitter taste rising in her throat. The feeling bubbling inside her had been almost painfully familiar, a twisted echo of the jealousy she had felt as a child.

She could still remember the heat of it, the way it had burned through her tiny body when someone had gotten the last cookie in class or taken the swing she had wanted on the playground.

Back then, her jealousy had been wild and unrestrained, often spilling out as anger—pushing, hitting, shouting until someone had intervened.

But this hadn't been the same. She wasn't a kid anymore, and she had known better than to lash out. And yet, the anger had simmered beneath the surface, waiting for her to slip, to let it spill over.

Her jaw had tightened as she had forced herself to look away, her fists clenching at her sides. Chad hadn't been hers anymore, she had reminded herself, no matter how much she had wanted him to be.

She hadn't had the right to feel this way, to be so consumed by jealousy over someone who had clearly moved on.

But knowing that hadn't made it stop. The jealousy had still been there, sharp and unrelenting, twisting inside her like a knife.

It had dug in deeper with every passing day, lodging itself in a part of her she didn't know how to reach, let alone remove.

It didn't help that Tara knew exactly who you were. Of course she did—everyone in Woodsboro seemed to know everyone.

The town was too small for anyone to go unnoticed, their business too easily whispered about or pieced together.

She had known who you were since kindergarten, though, in moments like these, it felt like a cruel twist of fate that you hadn't been one of the kids she'd shoved in a fit of childish rage.

Maybe if you had been, she wouldn't feel so powerless now. She could have at least claimed to have gotten her frustration out once, a long time ago. But no. You had been one of the few to escape her younger wrath, and somehow that made this worse.

It wasn't just that, though. Tara couldn't think about you without hearing her mother's voice in the back of her mind, muttering something about how she wished Tara were "more like you."

Her mother said things like that about plenty of kids, especially when Tara landed herself in trouble at school. But the way she spoke about you had always felt different—like she meant it.

You were polite, diligent, the kind of kid parents liked to hold up as an example. Tara had hated it back then, hearing those comparisons tossed her way whenever she acted out. Now, remembering it made her blood boil.

You weren't a stranger to her. Not really. How could you be when Wes had spent all of middle school hopelessly infatuated with you? His crush had been embarrassingly obvious, even to people who weren't paying attention.

Tara remembered the way he'd stumble through his sentences whenever you so much as glanced in his direction. How he'd linger near your locker as though working up the courage to say something, only to turn red and scurry off when Amber caught him at it.

Amber had loved teasing him for it. She'd nudge his arm and whisper loud enough for everyone to hear, calling him love-struck and pitiful. And Tara? She'd roll her eyes and laugh right along with her.

She hadn't understood the appeal back then. Sure, you were nice. Polite, from what people said. But to Tara, you'd just been another person in the hallways, someone she could name but not care much about. Wes's hopeless pining had been little more than background noise to her.

But now... now that memory left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Not that she'd ever had a real problem with you. If anything, she'd been indifferent toward you all these years. You were nice, she supposed. Everyone said so, and it wasn't hard to believe.

You dressed well enough to stand out without trying too hard, cared enough about your grades to keep them respectable, and generally managed to avoid any kind of trouble. There wasn't much about you that people could complain about.

Tara hadn't spoken to you much. Maybe a couple of times, when group projects forced you together or when politeness demanded it. But it had never gone beyond that, never lingered in a way that mattered. You were a passing presence, just one of the many faces she'd seen over the years, easily forgotten once you were out of sight.

At least, that was how it used to be.

Now, it felt like you were everywhere. And worse, you weren't just a face in the crowd anymore. You were always laughing, always smiling, always looking so damn perfect. And you weren't alone. You were with Chad. His arm slung around your shoulders like you were his.

And that, Tara couldn't ignore.

You were with her Chad. Her boyfriend.

Or at least, that's what her mind insisted on calling him, despite the breakup. Despite everything. He was still hers. He had to be. There was no way he wasn't, not when she could still feel the ghost of his hand in hers, not when her chest tightened every time she thought about him laughing at something you said. It wasn't right. It didn't feel right.

You didn't belong under his arm like that. You didn't belong anywhere near him.

Tara's jaw clenched as the image burned itself deeper into her memory: the way his arm had draped over your shoulders so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't. It couldn't be. That spot was hers—had been hers for so long that seeing anyone else there made her stomach twist with something jagged and unbearable.

And it didn't help that you didn't even look good there. Not to her, anyway. You didn't fit the way she did. You didn't mold into his side like you belonged there, not like she had. Chad was tall, broad-shouldered, and Tara had always thought they looked balanced together. She'd fit neatly under his arm, a perfect complement to his size and presence. You? You just looked... wrong.

At least, that's what she told herself as her eyes lingered on you for too long, darting between the way you smiled at him and the way he smiled back at you.

Her chest tightened further, the edges of her jealousy sharpening with every second.

She tried to tell herself not to care. Really, she did. She told herself that it didn't matter anymore, that Chad wasn't hers, that this—whatever this was—wasn't her business. He had every right to move on. She even tried repeating it in her head, like some kind of mantra: It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.

But it didn't work. It never worked.

It wasn't just the jealousy, though that was certainly the loudest emotion screaming in her chest. It was the helplessness that came with it. The same helplessness she'd felt back in kindergarten, when that dark, fiery feeling had bubbled up inside her and she hadn't known what to do with it. Back then, she'd pushed people, shoved them, let her rage and frustration spill out in any way it could.

Now? Now she was older. Supposedly more mature. She was supposed to be able to handle her emotions, wasn't she? But standing there, watching Chad lean into you, laugh at something you said like it was the funniest thing in the world, Tara felt that same fiery frustration rise in her chest.

She didn't shove people anymore—didn't let that dark feeling spill out like she used to—but that didn't mean it wasn't still there, simmering just below the surface. And now, as she stood frozen in the hallway, all of it—every last ounce of it—was directed at you.

Because you didn't belong there.

You didn't belong with Chad.

You didn't belong in the picture she still couldn't stop replaying in her head: you laughing at something he said, him pulling you closer, the two of you looking... happy.

Tara bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to taste blood. She told herself to turn away, to stop looking, to let it go. But it was impossible. Just like it had been when she was five years old, that feeling burned too brightly, clawed at her too viciously to ignore.

And now, as she stared at you from across the hallway, she realized she didn't know how to make it stop.

She couldn't stop seeing it—couldn't stop feeling it. You and him. It was burned into her mind, an image so vivid it felt like it had been seared there with a branding iron. Every time she closed her eyes, it was there. You and Chad. Laughing together. Holding hands. Kissing.

Tara's hands clenched into fists at her sides. She hated it. She hated you.

She hated the way you were always smiling, like you didn't have a care in the world. She hated the way you stood so close to him every day, the way his arm so casually rested on your shoulders. She hated the way you looked at him, and the way he looked at you. Like you were the only person in the room. Like you were perfect.

You weren't even that cute. That's what she tried to tell herself, over and over again. You weren't anything special. There were plenty of other girls in Woodsboro prettier than you, smarter than you, more interesting than you.

But it was a lie.

Because you were beautiful.

You were effortlessly beautiful in a way that made Tara's stomach churn. She hated the fact that she couldn't use your looks as an excuse. She hated how good you looked with Chad, how perfect you seemed together, how easy it was to see why he'd chosen you.

And that made her hatred burn even brighter.

Most nights, she couldn't sleep. The second her head hit the pillow, her mind would start spinning, and the thoughts would creep in—dark, ugly thoughts that wrapped around her like a vice. She could see it so clearly, almost like it was happening right in front of her.

You touching him in places she was supposed to touch. You undressing him, his hands roaming over your body instead of hers. You kissing him, making him moan, sitting on top of him—doing all the things she was supposed to do.

It made her blood boil. It made her want to scream.

The images were relentless, vivid and visceral, and every one of them felt like a knife twisting deeper into her chest. Sometimes, the anger was so sharp it made her want to claw at her own skin, like she could rip the feeling out of herself if she just tried hard enough.

But no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts away, they always came back. They stayed with her, haunting her like a ghost she couldn't escape.

And every time, the hatred burned hotter.

It wasn't fair. You weren't supposed to have him. You weren't supposed to be in his arms, weren't supposed to hear his laugh up close, weren't supposed to know what his lips felt like. You didn't deserve any of it. You didn't deserve him.

He was hers. He'd always been hers.

But now, he wasn't.

And it was all because of you.

And this wasn't like any other time. Not even close.

Tara had always known her temper was a problem. She'd been told that enough times growing up—by her teachers, by her mom, by anyone who'd had the misfortune of crossing her when she was angry. But this? This was different.

She'd never felt this way before.

She'd tried everything to stop it, to keep herself from unraveling. Everything her mom had suggested back when she'd first started noticing how intense Tara's outbursts could be. Taking deep breaths, counting to ten, picturing a happy place—none of it worked. It never had.

And when her mom's suggestions fell flat, Tara had turned to the internet, searching desperately for anything that might help. Techniques to control anger, ways to keep herself calm, tips to avoid losing her temper. She'd read every article she could find, watched every video, tried every trick. Not because she cared about managing her emotions—no, she just wanted to avoid her mom forcing her into some anger management program or therapy session she'd be stuck in for months.

But now? Now, she couldn't even pretend to have control. Nothing worked. Nothing.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin prickled with heat, and the jealousy burned so hot and sharp that she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. It wasn't just anger anymore. It was something else entirely, something darker and more consuming.

Tara felt insane.

Because no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to push it down or ignore it, the feeling wouldn't go away. It wrapped around her like a second skin, suffocating and unbearable, until there was only one thought left in her mind:

She had to get rid of you.

It wasn't even a question anymore. It was a fact, plain and simple. There was no other way to fix this, no other way to make the feelings stop. You had to go.

At first, Tara thought about spreading a rumor or two. Nothing big, just enough to make you and Chad fight. Enough to plant a seed of doubt, to tear apart whatever connection you had with him. It sounded perfect at first—until she realized how easily it could blow up in her face.

Chad would figure it out eventually. He'd find out Tara was behind it, and then she'd lose any chance of getting him back.

She thought about telling you to leave, to move away, to go anywhere but here. But that was ridiculous. You'd never listen.

She thought about kidnapping you.

The thought came and went so quickly it almost startled her. For a split second, her mind flickered to the idea of forcing you out of the picture entirely, taking control in a way that left no room for argument.

But no. That was insane.

...Wasn't it?

Tara clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to hurt. She was spiraling. She knew it. But she couldn't stop.

Nothing else would work. Nothing except you being gone.

She didn't know how, she didn't know when, but Tara knew one thing with absolute certainty:

You couldn't stay.

You didn't belong here. You didn't belong with Chad. You didn't belong anywhere near him, near her, near this town.

You didn't belong anywhere.

And Tara? Tara was going to make sure of it.

She toyed with possibilities. But none of them seemed right.

Kidnapping you crossed her mind more than once though. Briefly.

But it was stupid, insane.

Because what would she do when she had you?

Just keep you there?

It seemed suiting, but it wouldn't work out.

But she couldn't help thinking it—if only because she was running out of options.

And then, the thought hit her. It came out of nowhere, sharp and sudden, like a knife to the gut.

She could kill you.

At first, the thought had hit her like a slap to the face, sharp and jarring in its absurdity. It had seemed insane. Because it was insane. What kind of person even thought something like that, let alone seriously considered it?

But as the days dragged on, the idea didn't fade. If anything, it took root. The more Tara thought about it, the less insane it seemed. Her anger, that relentless, boiling rage, started to simmer. It didn't disappear entirely—not even close—but it

lessened.

For the first time in weeks, she could breathe.

The idea itself was enough at first. She didn't need to act on it. Just thinking about it was enough to bring her some semblance of peace. She let the fantasy play out in her mind like a sick little movie: you, out of the picture, gone forever. It didn't matter how or when—just that it happened.

And for a few days, she was happy with just that. She let herself exist in that space, in the calm that came with imagining a world where you didn't exist. A weekend of relative peace, of daydreams that made her anger feel manageable.

But then Monday came.

And Tara saw you again.

You were standing in the hallway, smiling up at Chad like he was the only person in the world. His arm was slung casually around your shoulders, his head tilted toward yours in that stupid, familiar way that made Tara's stomach twist.

It was like being set on fire all over again.

Her chest burned, her vision blurred, and that fleeting peace she'd found over the weekend vanished in an instant. The rage came roaring back, hotter and more vicious than ever, tearing through her like a wildfire.

Because the thought of you being gone wasn't enough anymore. Not when you were right there, so close, so perfect, so fucking smug without even trying.

Tara's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms until they left crescent-shaped indents. Her jaw tightened, her teeth grinding as she stared at you, as she watched you.

You didn't belong there. You didn't belong under his arm. You didn't belong anywhere near him.

And now? Now, Tara knew what she had to do.

It wasn't a matter of if anymore. It was a matter of when.

Because just thinking about it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

She was going to kill you.

And she was going to feel better for it.

___

Tara had everything prepared.

The thought of it had consumed her, growing like a rock inside her chest, feeding off her every waking moment until it was impossible to ignore.

And now, it was time.

She had spent days balancing on the edge of dread and longing, torn between the weight of what she was about to do and the twisted satisfaction she knew it would bring. It wasn't something she wanted—not really. But it was something she had to do. The only way to end the torment that had been eating away at her since the moment she saw you with him.

So Tara had done her research, gathering every scrap of information she could. She watched you closely—closer than ever. She had listened, observed, bided her time until the perfect opportunity revealed itself.

And it had.

It had been math class on Monday afternoon, and Tara had been lucky enough to snag a seat directly behind you and your friends. Normally, she would've tuned out your conversation entirely, drowning it in her thoughts. But this time, she had leaned in, careful to catch every word.

You'd been talking about the upcoming math test, about how you'd be studying for it Wednesday afternoon. Alone.

Your parents were going to be at some lame work conference, and they'd decided to take your younger brother along to make a trip out of it. You'd rolled your eyes as you explained how stupid it all sounded, but Tara hadn't cared about your opinion.

All she cared about was the opening.

You'd be home. Alone.

It was perfect.

Tara's pencil had hovered over her notebook as she pretended to take notes, but her mind wasn't on algebra. It was spinning with possibilities, with plans, with the kind of clarity that had eluded her for weeks.

When the bell rang and you left the room with your friends, Tara sat frozen in her seat for a moment, her fists clenched around the edge of her desk. The pounding in her chest felt louder than the shuffle of students leaving the classroom, louder than the voices in the hallway.

Because now, it wasn't just an idea.

It was a plan.

Wednesday. After school. It would be done.

And finally, finally, she would feel better.

Wednesday came, and Tara felt something she hadn't in weeks. Happiness.

It wasn't the fleeting, muted kind that came and went without leaving a trace. No, this was sharp, visceral, alive. She could feel it buzzing beneath her skin, coiling around her chest like a warm, electric current.

She didn't remember the last time she'd woken up this excited. It was like every nerve in her body had been lit aflame, pushing her through the motions of her morning routine with a sense of purpose she hadn't felt in so long.

Because today was the day.

Every second that ticked by brought her closer to it. To you. To the end of the endless cycle of rage and jealousy that had consumed her. She could picture it already—vivid, perfect, satisfying.

You'd be scared, of course. How could you not be? She imagined the way your eyes would widen, the way you'd stammer out a pathetic plea. You'd try to push her off, scramble for an escape, but it wouldn't work.

It wouldn't work because you were weak. You weren't like her. You didn't know what it meant to fight, to claw your way through something until you got what you wanted. You'd crumble like paper.

And then you'd be gone.

She could see the aftermath so clearly it almost felt real. Chad, walking through the school corridors alone, his shoulders slumped with the weight of grief. His face twisted in pain as he thought about you.

And then—then he'd come back to her. He had to. It was inevitable, wasn't it? He'd remember how good things were with her, how much better they could be now that you were out of the picture. He'd pull himself to her, broken but needing her to put him back together.

It was all Tara could think about.

The entire day felt like a blur, her mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. Teachers droned on and on about tests and essays, classmates chatted about meaningless things, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except what was waiting for her after school.

And yet, the anger was still there.

It simmered beneath the surface, coiled tight in her chest, a constant reminder that nothing was done yet. You were still there, still laughing and smiling and making her blood boil with every second that passed.

In English class, she caught sight of you leaning over Chad's desk, your voice low as you explained something to him. Grammar, maybe. Whatever it was, Tara didn't care.

What she cared about was the way he was looking at you. That stupid, soft smile, the same one he used to give her.

It made her stomach turn.

You didn’t even know what you were doing, she thought bitterly, her fists clenching beneath her desk. You didn't know him. You didn't know how to help him, not like she did. You weren't supposed to be there, leaning over his shoulder, pointing at his textbook like you had any idea what you were doing.

Tara's jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together as she stared at the two of you.

But it was fine. It wouldn't matter soon enough.

By the time the final bell rang, she was practically buzzing with anticipation, her hands trembling as she shoved her books into her bag.

Because today was the day.

And by the time it was over, you'd be gone. Forever.

By the time last period rolled around, Tara could barely contain herself. She was bouncing her leg under the desk, the rapid up-and-down movement making the surface wobble slightly. It wasn't stress, though. Not even close.

It was excitement.

Because in just a few hours, everything would be different. You'd be gone.

She'd spent the entire day anticipating this moment, and now that it was so close, she could hardly breathe. Her chest felt tight, but not in the way it used to when the anger consumed her. This was something else—something electric, like a firework waiting to explode.

When the bell finally rang for the last time that day, Tara practically shot out of her seat. Her heart was pounding, her pulse thrumming in her ears as she sprinted to her locker, dodging through the crowded hallway like her life depended on it.

She grabbed her things in a flurry, barely paying attention to what she was stuffing into her bag. The details didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting out of there as quickly as possible.

The walk home was a blur. She couldn't even remember the route she took, but she knew it was fast because she'd gotten there in record time. She practically burst through the door of the apartment, slamming it shut behind her with a force that rattled the frame.

The space was empty, just as she'd hoped. Sam wasn't home, probably still at the café down the street where she worked long shifts most afternoons.

Tara didn't waste any time. She stormed into her room, yanking her bag off her shoulder and dumping its contents onto the bed. Books, hair ties, pens, and random scraps of paper spilled out in a messy heap. She didn't bother organizing any of it, her focus locked on what came next.

She started packing what she'd need instead.

First came the basics: a pair of gloves she'd swiped from the closet, a small hand towel, and a few cleaning supplies she'd found under the sink. Just in case.

Then there was the book. She'd borrowed it from the library earlier that day, an afterthought at the time, but now it served a purpose. If anyone asked what she'd been doing when you turned up dead, she'd have an alibi.

And then there was the knife.

Tara headed to the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she opened the drawer where Sam kept the cutlery. She stared at the knives for a moment, her breathing shallow as she considered her options.

Finally, she picked one.

It wasn't the largest or the sharpest, but it felt solid in her grip. Familiar, almost.

She held it for a moment, staring down at the blade as it caught the light. Her reflection stared back at her, warped and fragmented in the metal, but she didn't flinch.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before tucking the knife into her bag.

This was it.

She was ready.

Tara zipped her bag shut and slung it over her shoulder, not even sparing a second thought for the knife or the other incriminating items inside. Evidence of what was about to happen was tucked away in plain sight, but the thought didn't concern her. Why would it? She wasn't going to get caught.

She paused in the doorway of the apartment, pulling out her phone to double-check the address one last time. It was burned into her memory by now, but a quick glance wouldn't hurt. She'd found it easily enough a week ago, scouring the school directory that had been left out in the counselor's office during one of her "mandatory check-ins." Your address had been listed next to your emergency contacts, all neatly typed out.

Perfect.

Satisfied, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and stepped out into the hallway. The stairwell echoed with her footsteps as she made her way down, each step slow and deliberate. She wasn't in a rush. Not yet.

The walk to your house wasn't short, but it wasn't unbearably long either. Just far enough to give her plenty of time to think, to imagine, to savor the anticipation building in her chest like a drug.

Tara was thrilled.

Not just because of what she was about to do, but because of how clever she'd been about it. The idea had struck her like lightning, and the more she thought about it, the more genius it seemed. She wasn't just solving a problem—she was removing it, erasing it entirely.

As she walked, her thoughts grew darker, more vivid. She pictured you in front of her, on your knees, crying and begging her to stop. But she wouldn't stop. She'd pin you down with a strength you couldn't fight against, her hands steady, her resolve unshakable.

Her gaze flicked down to her white Converse, and she pictured them splattered with red. Blood staining the canvas, dripping onto the pavement, marking every step she took.

She imagined your blood on her hands, warm and slick, streaked across her fingers like war paint. She pictured your face as she hovered over you, the way your eyes would widen with fear, the way your mouth would open to scream—only to be silenced.

The image sent a thrill through her, a jolt of satisfaction that made her grin.

To anyone else, these thoughts would be horrifying. Disturbing. Insane.

But to Tara, they were... liberating.

She couldn't wait.

Tara had dreamt about this moment. Every detail had been mapped out in her mind, as vivid and meticulous as if it had already happened. She hadn't missed a single thing while planning it.

She knew exactly how it would go.

You'd answer the door, your steps light as they always seemed to be. When the door swung open, you'd greet her with that confused little smile, the one that would tug at the corner of your lips as you tried to figure out what she was doing there.

She could already imagine the polite mask you'd pull on, hiding the confusion behind your soft smile as you asked—probably in that gentle, saccharine voice Chad loved so much—what she was doing at your house.

And Tara would match your politeness, feigning a warm, almost apologetic smile as she began to speak. She'd tell you that you'd left the classroom before the teacher had a chance to hand you a paper—a makeup assignment for the math test you were apparently struggling with. She'd tell you how she'd volunteered to bring it to you, mentioning offhandedly that your house was "on the way" to hers.

It wasn't.

But you were probably stupid enough to believe it.

Tara could almost see the way you'd nod, your suspicion melting away as you stepped aside to let her in. And that's when she'd set her plan into motion.

She'd unzip her bag slowly, her movements deliberate, casual, as if she really were pulling out a sheet of paper. She'd even keep talking, her voice calm, explaining how the assignment wasn't that difficult, just a review of material you should already know.

But when her hand came out of the bag, it wouldn't be holding any paper.

It would be holding the knife.

The image was so clear in her mind, so vivid that it felt real. She could see the shock on your face, the way your smile would drop, the way your eyes would widen. She'd let you stand there, frozen and clueless, for just a moment before she lunged.

The first stab would be quick, precise. She'd aim for your stomach, the blade plunging in before you had a chance to react. And as you stumbled back, clutching at the wound, she'd step inside, closing the door behind her with her free hand.

It wouldn't stop there. It couldn't.

She'd keep going, stabbing again and again, her movements frenzied but deliberate, each strike fueled by the rage that had been festering inside her for weeks.

By the time you hit the floor, Tara would already be kneeling over you, her knife rising and falling with a terrifying rhythm.

She'd finish it. Completely.

Tara found herself smirking at the thought, her steps quickening as she neared your street. The plan played out in her head like a movie she'd already watched a hundred times, each scene perfectly clear, perfectly executed.

The thought of it all—the fear in your eyes, the blood on her hands, the peace that would finally follow—was almost enough to make her laugh.

By the time she reached your street, her smirk had settled into something more fixed, more certain. The weight of the knife in her bag wasn't something she second-guessed. There was no hesitation in her steps, no flicker of doubt in her mind. She had played this moment over so many times that it felt inevitable, like she was simply walking through a prewritten script.

And then she saw your house.

That perfect, suburban home—one of those places that looked like it had been plucked from a family sitcom. The kind of house where nothing bad was ever supposed to happen. The driveway was empty, just like it was supposed to be. No parents home. No witnesses. But that didn't matter.

What mattered was that you had all of this.

Tara felt her stomach twist in something that wasn't quite anger, wasn't quite jealousy, but a poisonous mix of both. The house itself was nice—not a mansion, but big enough that she knew you had space that was yours. No sharing. No constantly moving from one place to another. You had stability. The porch light was already on despite the sun still clinging to the sky, because you had parents who actually cared if you got home in the dark.

Parents who were probably normal.

Not like hers.

And it wasn't just the house. It was everything. The car parked on the curb—the one that she knew was yours and not some shared family vehicle. The way your front yard was neatly kept, the way there was a welcome mat in front of the door, the way it all screamed a life she never had.

It made her hate you even more.

But that hate only made her more certain. Because soon, none of it would matter. Your perfect house, your caring parents, your stupid little car—they would all be meaningless.

Soon, the only thing you'd have was a gravestone with your name carved into it.

And that made her happy.

Tara forced herself to relax as she walked up the front steps, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. She let out a slow breath, schooling her expression into something neutral. She wasn't just about to commit murder—no, she was just a classmate doing a favor, dropping off an assignment.

The thought almost made her laugh.

She reached the front door, lifting a fist and knocking twice against the wood.

The house was quiet. Peaceful.

But soon, Tara imagined, it would be fuller.

Fuller with screams.

And then—she heard it.

A soft, thoughtless hum from the other side of the door. Light, airy, clueless.

Her hands twitched at her sides, damp with sweat before she even realized it. A sick, twisted heat pooled in her stomach, curling around her ribs like a vice, because for the first time all day, something foreign crawled up her spine.

Nerves.

Real, undeniable, nerves.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

No. No. That wasn't right. She had waited for this.

She had planned, dreamed, prepared for this exact moment. She was supposed to feel good. Excited.

Not like this.

Not like her body had turned against her.

Tara's jaw tightened, anger sparking white-hot beneath her skin, because that was your fault, too.

Of course, it was.

You were the one who made her feel this way. You were the reason her mind had been tangled in knots for weeks, the reason she couldn't breathe without choking on the thought of you, the reason everything felt so wrong.

And that was why she was here.

She sucked in a sharp breath, planting her feet firmly on the doorstep, pushing the shaking from her hands, the sweat from her palms.

Because it didn't matter.

It didn't matter that her heart was hammering against her ribs. It didn't matter that her mind was racing.

All that mattered was that you were coming.

And then—

A quiet shuffle of footsteps.

Closer.

Tara's stomach twisted.

Another step.

And another.

The shadow of movement from behind the glass.

And then—

The door clicked as the lock turned.

The handle shifted.

And Tara stopped breathing.

The door swung open.

And there you were.

Tara didn't know what she had expected. She had run through this moment in her head too many times to count, had pictured every detail—the way you'd react, the way she'd feel, the way it would finally happen. But none of those versions had prepared her for the real thing.

Because the real thing was you—standing there, so normal, so alive in a way that made something tighten in her chest.

You hadn't even looked to see who it was before your lips curled into a soft, polite smile, like answering the door and finding someone waiting for you was just another part of your evening. Like she was just another part of your evening.

And Tara—

Tara froze.

Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag, fingers stiff, nails pressing into her palm. The weight of it suddenly felt too heavy, dragging her down, pinning her in place.

You weren't looking at her yet, not fully, but she could see the moment it registered. The way your eyes flickered, widening just a little before settling, before you adjusted.

Tara swallowed hard, throat dry.

She hadn't planned for this—for the way time seemed to slow, for the way her pulse slammed against her ribs, not in anger but in something else, something unreadable. She had prepared for every possible scenario, had thought through every single step. She knew exactly what she had to do.

So why the fuck wasn't she doing it?

Why was she standing there, frozen, when this was exactly what she had been waiting for?

Her stomach twisted, a sick, sudden nausea creeping in.

She had to say something.

She had to move.

But she just stood there, staring.

It was like her body had short-circuited, her mind blanking out in a way it never did. She had pictured this moment a hundred times, had mapped it out in her head with a precision so sharp it felt real—but now? Now, standing in front of you, with your stupid soft smile and your wide, expectant eyes, everything felt wrong.

She was supposed to have control.

She was supposed to speak first.

But before she could force a single word out of her mouth—

"Oh my God, Tara!"

Your voice hit her like a slap to the face.

Not just because of the voice—bright, warm, too friendly for what this moment was meant to be—but because of how you said her name.

Wrong.

You stretched out the A like it belonged there, like you had never even considered the right way to say it.

Tara's stomach twisted, her nose scrunching slightly before she could stop it.

She hated when people did that.

It wasn't even complicated. It wasn't hard.

Tara. Short. Sharp. Simple.

Why the fuck would it be anything else?

But then—before she could even say anything, before she could snap at you the way she wanted to—you noticed.

Not in the way most people did.

You didn't fumble over yourself, didn't look nervous, didn't react like someone who had just made a mistake in front of the wrong person.

No.

You just... realized.

"Oh—sorry. It's Tara, right?"

And this time, you said it right.

Tara felt something hot crawl up her spine.

You didn't wait for her to correct you.

You didn’t need her to tell you you were wrong.

You figured it out on your own.

And yet, you still smiled.

"I'm sorry, I totally suck at names," you added, your voice easy, a small, amused sigh slipping through a quiet giggle.

A giggle.

Like this was nothing.

Like you weren't standing in your doorway, staring at someone who had come here to kill you.

Tara's grip on her bag tightened.

You weren't nervous.

Not even a little.

Why weren't you nervous?

You were supposed to be. Yet she was the one that was.

Tara didn't know what the fuck was happening to her.

This wasn't right.

She was supposed to be in control. She was supposed to be sharp, precise, already halfway inside your house by now, setting her plan into motion.

But instead, she stood there.

Frozen.

Silent.

She couldn't speak.

Her body acted before her mind caught up, lips pressing together in something barely resembling a smile. Thin. Tense. Fake.

"It's fine," she mumbled, her voice lower than she intended.

It wasn't fine.

Nothing about this was fine.

And yet, you still didn't ask her what she was doing here.

You didn't look suspicious. You didn't hesitate. You didn't ask.

Tara could feel something bubbling in her chest, frustration twisting in with something else, something hotter, sharper.

Why weren't you asking?

Why weren't you wary?

Why weren't you treating her like a stranger who had no reason to be on your doorstep?

But before she could dwell on it for too long, your face lit up even more—

And you started talking.

"I've actually been wanting to speak to you for a while."

Your voice was too warm. Too light.

Tara's jaw clenched.

"This whole thing with Chad..."

You trailed off, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear, tilting your head ever so slightly as your eyes flicked to her face—

Waiting.

Waiting to see if she reacted to his name.

And fuck, she did.

She hated that she did.

But you didn't seem to notice.

Or maybe you did, but you didn't care.

You just continued, words spilling out like you had been holding them in for too long.

"I wanted to ask if you guys were fine before... yeah, you know."

Tara didn't need you to finish that sentence.

She knew exactly what you meant.

Before you.

Before Chad moved on.

Before you ruined everything.

Her nails dug into the strap of her bag.

And still, you didn't stop talking.

"I know we're not friends and barely know each other," you admitted, still looking at her with that same softness. That genuine fucking softness that made her stomach twist in ways it shouldn't.

"But you're really nice," you went on.

Tara almost laughed at that.

Nice.

You thought she was nice.

And then—

"I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable or, you know... secretly hate me."

The way you said it was almost casual, like it was just a thought, something light, something small—

But Tara felt her heartbeat slam against her ribs.

You didn't know.

You had no idea.

And for the first time since she got here, she felt a flicker of something close to panic.

You didn't hate her.

You weren't afraid of her.

You thought she was nice.

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that?

Tara tried to reason with herself.

If she just did it now, everything would be fine.

If she just said what she planned to say, if she reached for her bag, if she pulled out the knife instead—

It would be over.

It would be done.

You would be nothing but a mess on the floor, and Chad would be devastated, and he would come crawling back, and everything would go back to how it was supposed to be.

So why wasn't she moving?

Her fingers twitched against the strap of her bag, but her body stayed rooted to the spot.

She wanted to.

Oh, how she wanted to.

She had dreamed about this moment.

Had imagined the way you'd look at her—terrified, confused, realizing too late what was about to happen.

She had longed for it.

And yet—

She couldn't.

For some stupid, inexplicable reason, she couldn't.

Something in her wouldn't let her.

What the fuck was she even thinking earlier?

Why did she think this would be easy?

Why did she think she could just walk up here and do it like it was nothing?

Her head felt too full, a war raging behind her eyes, pushing, pulling, twisting.

She wasn't supposed to hesitate.

She wasn't supposed to second-guess herself.

She was supposed to kill you.

So why was it suddenly feeling impossible?

You studied her face as she stood there, silent.

To you, it probably looked like she was still hurt over Chad.

Like she was standing here, struggling to find the right words, caught up in old feelings she hadn't moved past yet.

And when she didn't answer, you didn't take it the way you should have.

You didn't question why she was just standing there.

You didn't wonder why she was looking at you like that, like something wasn't clicking in her head.

Instead—you invited her in.

You stepped back, opening the door a little wider, glancing at her with the same warm expression you had greeted her with.

"Do you want to come inside?"

Tara blinked.

For a second, she thought she misheard you.

But you weren't kidding.

You were actually letting her in.

You, the person she had been planning to kill, were offering to welcome her into your home.

You didn't even know her.

And when she didn't immediately respond, you just smiled a little and added, "Only if you want to."

That was it.

No hesitation. No suspicion. No fear.

Why weren't you scared of her?

Why weren't you acting like someone who was about to die?

Her fingers clenched tighter around the strap of her bag.

She should leave.

She should end this.

She should do what she came here to do.

And yet—

Almost without thinking, she found herself nodding.

Slowly, stiffly.

And then she was stepping inside.

Her body was acting on its own, ignoring the part of her mind still screaming at her to just fucking do it already.

She heard you close the door behind her.

She stood there, fists tightening at her sides, eyes flickering around your house—your nice, warm, safe house that made her sick.

And then you were talking again, so casually, so easily.

"I'm trying to study for the math test, but it's not going really well."

You let out a small, light laugh, like this was nothing.

Like she was just a friend stopping by instead of a fucking killer in your home.

Tara didn't know why she followed you.

Why her feet carried her further inside instead of turning around and doing what she was supposed to do.

She barely processed the way you walked ahead of her, leading her through the house like she belonged there.

Like she wasn't holding a knife in her bag.

Like she wasn't planning to use it.

Her fingers curled tighter around the strap, knuckles aching from the pressure, but she still didn't stop.

She stepped past the entryway, eyes flickering over everything she could see—the framed artwork on the walls, the coat rack near the door, the way the house smelled warm, lived in. There was something painfully normal about all of it. Too normal. It made her stomach turn.

And then her gaze landed on it.

The photo sitting neatly on the shelf above the couch.

She didn't mean to stop. Didn't mean to let her focus linger. But she did.

It was you.

Your family.

Your mom, your dad, your little brother.

All of you smiling, arms wrapped around each other like you had never known anything but happiness.

Her throat burned.

Her chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped their hands around her ribs and squeezed.

She didn't know why.

She didn't fucking know why.

All she knew was that she hated that picture.

Hated the way you had that.

Hated the way she couldn't even imagine a photo like that of her own family.

Most definitely not framed in the living room.

Her mouth pressed into a hard line, her grip tightening around the strap of her bag.

The weight of the knife sat heavy inside, like it was taunting her.

She should reach for it.

She should pull it out and remind herself why she was here.

But her body still wouldn't move.

And that made her furious.

Why the fuck was she just standing here?

Why wasn't she doing anything?

It would be so easy.

A few steps. A flick of her wrist.

Blood against the perfect little life you had.

A stain.

A reminder that nothing was ever really safe.

So why couldn't she do it?

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else—until your voice cut through the haze.

"Tara?"

She blinked.

Snapped back to the moment.

You were looking at her now, head slightly tilted, waiting for her to follow you further inside.

She forced her jaw to unclench, tearing her eyes away from the photo and moving again.

She followed you into the living room.

And that was when she saw the mess of notes and open notebooks spread out across the coffee table.

Pens scattered. Pages half-filled with numbers and formulas. Homework left abandoned mid-thought.

She stared.

She didn't even know why.

Maybe it was because it was so normal.

Like you had no idea what was standing right in front of you.

Like she wasn't supposed to be anything other than some classmate stopping by with an assignment.

Her fingers twitched against the strap of her bag.

Maybe if she just—

Your voice cut through the silence again, still light, still unbothered.

"You can sit down if you want."

You motioned toward the couch, as if this was just normal.

As if she wasn't standing in your house, her heart hammering, her mind completely unraveling.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing her feet forward.

One step.

Then another.

She made it halfway across the room before stopping again, her breath catching somewhere in her throat.

She shouldn't be here.

She shouldn't be doing this.

She should just grab the knife, should just do what she fucking came here to do.

But she couldn't.

And she didn’t know why.

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, pining, nam-gyu's pov, lots of angst in an edgy way, very light drxg mentions,

a/n: this'll be a 2 part mini series! so excited to get this started ugh tysm to anon who requested this word count: 9.2k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・Nam-gyu was not a man of many regrets. 

If he had to count, he could fit them all on one hand. Mostly from when he was a teen. Younger and somehow even more impulsive than he was now, drinking through money like water and getting into fights he’d never remember. The worst of them all, however, was one he hadn’t thought would really eat at him. It was unlike himself to get hung up over a girl of all things, but good lord, he was hanging. Strings and all, like a marionette, bleeding and sore at the joints. 

Tough to swallow couldn’t even compare to the feeling of when that specific regret suddenly pops up in the same room after years of abandon. If he hadn’t been so down bad, the sight of you would have only ruffled up his feathers enough to remind him of a better time, but in God’s honest eyes, those feathers of his had been ruffled since the dawn of the very instant you left. The door hadn’t even had a chance to hit you on your way out, nothing but dust and tears in your wake. He was stuck fast, left to his own devices, bouncing between wondering why he let it go so bad and whilst also begging God himself to make you stop being such a bitch. 

But the worst part, the worst part is that even now you still carry this aura of over it all around you. Self-respect colliding with the want to be loved was never an easy tango to dance, all steps just pulling and pushing and trying to snuff out useless feelings and red hot passion. But you twirled until he did what he did best and nudged you to the brink of your breaking point. All that sweet, sweet adoration drained from your face and he saw it- dignity. He saw it on you on your  way out of his apartment, storming past him with biting tears in your eyes. And now, years later, he gets to see it again from across the room.

You’re sitting on a high, high bunk you’ve claimed as yours, people watching. Other than the initial moment you’d seen him in the bubble of people, you haven't bothered sparing him a second glance. It was a beautiful moment- your eyes widening, stopped dead in your tracks before you were on the move all over again. He’s sneaking glances through the corners of his eyes, watching you over his shoulder, and you can’t even give him another second of your day. And the thing that really bothers him is that he knows he can’t stop. 

Out of everyone in this room, your distant presence is a fiery beacon in the darkness and he’s an angry, bitter moth. It’s in his very nature to circle and flutter one step behind, seeking the light, burning at its touch. Singed wings and an endless sneer. If only he could just stop touching the heat, he would surely move on. But he just can’t, and the fact that you can pisses him off so much it makes him lose his breath at times. 

He wished, with the very core of his entire being, that you were weaker. Or, at least, stupider. Maybe then you would have lived up to his expectations and showed up to his door, or at his club, teary eyed and lonely without his superior presence around. He could see it behind his eyes at night, the waver in your voice when you’d beg him to come back into your arms, and more importantly, back into your bed. 

I told you so, he’d say, with that shit eating grin and a hand on your waist guiding you out from the cold.

A forlorn, guideless sheep in need of your shepherd. He could be that for you. If only the word boyfriend didn’t make him shudder with every last fiber of his being. If only that specific little thing wasn’t your breaking point. Your face haunted him- that halo around your irises fading into something far away and charred when he’d had the nerve to actually laugh at you for it. You were grabbing your things and leaving, and he sat watching every moment in clips. It wasn’t anything, back then. You were just mad, in a few days you’d be right as rain climbing into his lap and peppering kisses along his throat. You’d be back, he was sure of it. 

But then the days turned into weeks. And then, to his distaste, those weeks faded into months of silence. He started to catch himself looking for you in crowds, visiting places you’d frequented at just to linger around like an awkward ghost in case he spotted you through the shifting crowds. But you were gone- vanished.

Fine. You’ll never see me again, asshole. 

Those words had been etched into the very walls of his cranium since they’d left your lips in a scathing hiss. Such nasty words, but they shook with every consonant. 

Among your pride was a healthy blend of honesty. You had been true to your word- he really did never see you again. Wiped your slate spotless of anything Nam-gyu.

And it drove him fucking crazy. It made him sick to his stomach in a way he did not think was possible. It was out of control- he couldn’t stop thinking about you, you, you. He missed you more than he didn’t, and he was angrier at himself than he’d like to admit. So instead of admitting, he funnels all that anger into the very shape of you. Drags in the idea of you, his memories of you and shoves them down, down, down, until he truly did think he hated you, after all. 

Until he’s clenching his fist so tight he’s drawing blood and telling himself he’s better off now, without some whining bitch in his ear begging him to stick that boyfriend pin into the thinness of his skin. Thinks that without you hanging on his arm all the damn time, he could really go out and have some fun. He thinks, and he thinks and he thinks until he’s thought too much and suddenly he loves you again and he misses you so bad it’s crushing him under the sheer weight of your absence. 

So, Nam-gyu does what Nam-gyu does best once again, and he drowns himself out with the bitter taste of drugs on his tongue and the sear of alcohol in his blood. 

It all stops.

For a time, anyway. 

You always found ways to seep back into his mind one way or another. Songs that would only make it a second in before he was mashing the skip button. A tv show you’d watched together surviving on the screen roughly a whole minute before it’s switched off. Sometimes it was when he saw something he knew you’d like- a shitty video or meme. Other times you came to him in whispers while he laid out on his own living room floor, out of his mind watching the blank ceiling above him twist and writhe under his spotty vision with a needle poking out of his arm. 

But, most times… Most times you would slither your way to the forefront of his mind just before bed. The touch of you, the smell of you. 

The shape of you underneath him. Hands and quiet breaths. He could still hear the noises you made ringing in his ears, stored away in his memories just to taunt him when he was indisputably alone. Soft skin, even softer thighs. Always so warm, and so wet. So willing. You would come to him while he curled over himself in bed, drunk on porn and memories. 

And afterwards, when Nam-gyu had finished, he would throw his head back onto his pillow and ignore the way it felt like there was a lump in his throat. And that would piss him off even more, because fuck, you should be there with him. Laying by his side running your hands through his hair until he’s falling asleep balancing on the fine line of afterglow and dozing off. 

But you aren’t. You’re doing fuck all with who knows in places he’s never been to, places you probably begged him to go but he couldn’t even remember the name of. You hadn’t answered a single one of his texts, you hadn’t picked up a single call and everytime he hears the first couple seconds of your stupid voicemail he wants to crush his phone in his hands. Vexation was a slippery slope into the fires of fury- rage was like a parasite under his skin, eating away at what little rational thinking he had. 

Voicemail after voicemail. Text after ignored text. Anger was the hardest stage- rage grew horns on the crown of his head and it turned him into something he couldn’t recognize. Or, something he refused to recognize- desperate and heartsick. 

It was supposed to be you. Not him. 

He filled the endless gaps of you with drugs often and women when he could. For a short time it would work and he would wonder why he ever let someone else get him so, so low. But then the drugs would wear off. The random woman in his room that he never bothered to learn the name of would grab her clothes and saunter out the door. He stopped letting them stay the night. He could never sleep, stared at the ceiling until 5am wondering why he still felt like shit. He would be right back where he started, sitting on the couch, staring at the door watching you leave over and over again.  

You stopped updating your socials, quit hanging out with the few people that bounced between his and your crowd, successfully scrubbed him of your life entirely. After a year, he resorted to asking around if anyone had seen you. The answer, as always, was a firm no. It was a corrosive feeling, a constant churn and thrum within the cage of his ribs. It made him even more unrecognizable to himself. Made him invite women into his lap just to shove them away when they didn’t smell like you, or sound like you. Or laugh like you.

It had been so, so perfect before. It was fun, and it was hot all the time, and sex with you felt like heaven was a place on earth. Why couldn’t you see that? Why did you have to go and ruin it with your words and pleading eyes? Nam-gyu doesn’t roll like that. You knew that. He’s a free spirit, he tells himself. No chains, no labels. No holding him down. Even if it was at the feet of this gorgeous, gorgeous body and a honey sweet voice that just always seemed to know what to say. Beautiful eyes that always watched, a smile so saccharine, whispering words against his ear so dirty it made him shiver just to think about. 

The world was too vast to be held down. 

But, truth be told, he was held down. 

He is held down. 

When you walked out of his apartment those years ago, he never left that spot, chewing his nails and anxiously spinning the ring on his finger, watching you go. He started seeing it behind his eyes. Replays it, changes the course, wonders where he’d be right now if he’d just said something different. 

Finding you at the games was like divine intervention. It had to be. Some higher power had crossed his path and plopped you right in front of him. With rolling eyes and a deadpan stare at anything except for him, sure but you were there and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. God had heard his drug induced prayers of stupor. 

Now it was all about waiting. Waiting for the right moment to dive in and recapture you within him and he’d be right back to drinking you in at every chance he had. He’d do it differently this time, do it right so you’d cling to him and wonder why you ever wanted to leave at all. Make you wonder why you were so stupid to have been so stubborn when everything you could ever need was in the palm of your hand. He was sure of it. That strong, bullheaded expression would blitz is something vulnerable in his hands. A lurch of excitement riveted under his skin among the nerves. 

For now, he waits, and watches. Your presence could never go unnoticed by his dark eyes. 

It’s unfortunate for him that Thanos takes a notice to you, too. It’s hard not to, really, when every time he follows Nam-gyu’s locked line of sight it always leads back to you- this little sweet thing perched up at the peak of the bunks alongside the back, watching the room with this bored stare between mundane yapping with other players. 

“Someone you know?” Thanos’s voice had this subtle drip to it, this underlining excitement that Nam-gyu picks up on almost instantly. His expression stays cool, mostly uninterested despite the way he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from you even as he answers.

“Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

And then he’s stuck. Because his mouth opens for a split second to say, my ex, but he can’t quite say that, now can he? But he also can’t say an old friend either, because you simply weren’t. What you two had was something else entirely- a new plane he struggled to navigate, lovely when things were good, a hellscape when they weren't. The lines were always so blurred, fuzzy with sex and warm laughter.

He decides on something mostly true. “Someone I used to hang out with.”

“Girlfriend?” Thanos’s brow raises with his chirp, leaning forward with clear interest. 

“No.” It comes out quick- too quick, and too heavy. Tinged venom with more baggage than even he could handle at times. Thanos catches it on impact and whistles. 

“I see. So you won’t care if I go chat her up? Hm?” 

“Don’t bother. She’s not like that.” Nam-gyu’s scoffs before he can stop himself, this unsettling seed of jealousy planting itself in his chest. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

You’re dismounting from your bed and climbing onto the stairs when Thanos jumps to his feet, and Nam-gyu can already feel that itchy panic starting to blotch away at his skin. His hands, his cheeks. That seed takes its place within him bearing vicious roots. 

“Man, don’t bother,” He’s touching at Thanos’s sleeve, his shoulder, anywhere he can to try and gather his friend’s attention. “She can be kind of a bi-”

All it takes is a swat to Nam-gyu’s chest to stop him dead in his tracks, words dying his throat. Shut down, watching his friend take quick steps to you, Nam-gyu following close behind to witness.  If only he could be firmer, never demanding, always suggesting. Always rolling over and showing his soft underbelly at Thanos’s whim. Instead, he lets his lips press into a tight line and let’s it all happen right before him. 

You’re on the bottom step and taking a seat, and you see the rapper approaching before he gets a word in, but your eyes skip over him entirely and settle onto Nam-gyu’s. Distress is building in his muscles, but he’s making damn sure to keep himself in check. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone? You want a friend?”

Up closer now, sharing your space, he sees all the things he’d been missing so deeply throughout the years. You still look just as he remembered- still bearing this expression of bemused coolness, still having these all seeing eyes that seemed to cut right through him. 

“A friend?” you hum, and your voice threatens to pull him in like gravity. “You wanna be my friend?”

If jealousy could sprout through his skin, it’d be an ugly beast of horns and claws. But it can’t, so instead, it takes shape in the way Nam-gyu’s eyes are flicking between yours and the rappers, hands wrapped up in his sleeves. 

“Stick with me, yeah? I promise to keep you safe. My number one priority.” And Thanos is patting his chest, flashing those painted nails. Makes Nam-gyu’s chest tighten, his stomach growing sicker by the second. 

Damn, you can see it, too. There’s no denying the way he’s cringing behind that distant smirk, and he doesn’t think to hide the way he’s twisting his rings on his fingers. When you click your tongue, he knows what's coming. 

“Stick with you, hm… Sorry, but I try to work alone. Partner’s tend to, how do I say…” Those eyes of your slice through him all over again, honing into him when you finish your sentence. “Disappoint me.”

Fuck. Disappointment. Oh god, how that sears into Nam-gyu’s skin. The way you look the rapper up and down, visually sizing him up, would make his heart leap into his throat if he were under that same scrutiny. He never understood how you could always be this intense with such a sweet, sweet face. Kindness was certainly a luxury and he missed it, that never ending fire that kept him warm.

“I can change that for you,” Thanos sings.  “I’m a legend here for a reason.”

“Legend? I’ve never heard of you.” Your brows raise in amusement. 

“You will. Thanos.” He puffs his chest out and nods, a half cocked grin playing over his lips. “Guy’s like me, we don’t disappoint.”

The man actually finds the nerve to reach down and pluck your hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Nam-gyu feels red hot scorching through his face but he’s locked in place, watching it like a car crash. Relieved when you yank your hand free and shove it into your jacket’s pocket. It’s the only good thing out of this entire interaction, he finds, especially so when Thanos’s smirk falters into a tight surprised line. 

“Don’t go and do all that. Guy’s like you will always disappoint me.” You lean back against the wall of the step, vexation evident over your features. “How about you talk to me again after the next game, yeah? Maybe I’ll feel different. Thanos.”

You always were so good at slamming the door in people's faces, always brought Nam-gyu joy to witness you shut down the advances of some poor loser trying to gain your affections. Thanos knows he’s been hung out in the cold, too. Barking up the wrong tree in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong country. So, he takes a loose step backwards and shrugs. 

“Your loss.” He sighs, and Nam-gyu follows him all the way back to his bunk in brooding silence. 

Wringing his fingers, he can’t help himself when casts a glance over his shoulder to find you one last time before you’re obscured behind metal frames and moving bodies. When he does, he feels a rush of heat in his cheeks when you’re already stuck fast staring right back, watching him go. He’s silent when he sits down at his little corner of the dormitory, silent when Gyeong-su is harping praises at Thanos. Silent, even, when Thanos says he’s determined to bring you to his side of the map. 

However, he noticeably tenses when Thanos mutters, “What a babe, huh? I should go visit her after lights out.”

Almost immediately there’s hands on his shoulders, pushing and nudging him, demanding his attention. The deepest of sighs leaves the rapper, ducking his head to find Nam-gyu’s eyeline. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be pissed, it’s in my nature, boy. Be honest. You into her?”

“Me and her…” Nam-gyu swallows. “We used to mess around.”

“Lucky you.” Thanos’s is shoving Nam-gyu’s shoulders again. “You cut her lose?”

No, she cut me loose. But Nam-gyu can’t bring himself to say that, the words lost and barred at the tip of his tongue. In the silence, Thanos takes it as confirmation. 

“That’s so cold. If I had her, I’d never let her out of my sight. Sheesh.”

Nam-gyu can’t even form words at all, anymore, irritation and envy wrapping tendrils around his throat and snuffing him out. Your earlier words spin through his brain like a carousel- come find me after the next game. Were you being serious? Were you just saying that to mess with him? He knows you- he knows your tone better than he even realizes, but he suddenly can’t decipher what’s honesty and what isn’t anymore. Jealousy blinds him, thick lenses leading him in all sorts of binds. 

He should have talked to you. He should have made the first move and made sure the first time he was breathing your air was alone. Now he’s anxious, he’s resentful, and he’s humiliated for some reason he can’t quite place. It doesn't help when he can’t resist the urge to look at you one last time, just one for the road, and you’re chatting idly with a man lounging on the other side of the steps you’re currently sitting on. There’s a five foot gap between your bodies but Nam-gyu doesn’t care- the anger that rips through him is blind, you may as well have been fucking the man right in front of him. 

It’s all he can see, tunnel vision encompassing him all the way until the moment lines start to form for lunch. Stewing in his jealousy, a bitter taste blooming over his tongue, he doesn’t jump in line because he’s got an appetite, but simply because you were rather eager to fill your belly. He tails you, matches every step and still has to jump out in front of a random player from taking the spot directly behind you. 

You notice him with a fleeting look tossed over your shoulder, eyes darting from the corners of your eyes and then forward, still as a statue. Desperate to not interact. 

Nam-gyu can’t help himself.

“You into Thanos?”

You audibly laugh at him, and the sound makes him shred the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Everything. It’s everything to me. 

You look up at him over your shoulder, watching him through your thick lashes with scorn written all over those beautiful irises. There’s a flash image of you- a memory, tangled between the bedsheets, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and tear stained cheeks with his hand wrapped around your throat. It’s quick but it hits him like a sucker punch right to the gut. He sucks in a sharp breath. He wants to touch you- he almost does, but the line moves forward a beat and you’re moving with it away from his hesitating fingers. 

“I’m just asking.” He’s trying to be coy, but you can see right through him. 

“You worried, Nam-gyu?” 

That hits him like a sucker punch too. He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue, how it rolled off so perfect and pretty even when you were pissed at him. Sometimes specifically when you were pissed at him, this bubbling anticipation running through him in waves, your passion always the spark lighting the fire in his belly. 

“I’m not worried.”

“You are.” Clocked him, again. Peered into the windows of him and saw that angry ocean of spite and regret behind his eyes. “I know you are. I can see it on you.”

“Not worried.” Nam-gyu shrugs, but he can’t meet your eyes anymore. 

Another sigh ghosts from your lips, but it’s quieter, defeated, almost. 

“I’m not interested in your friend. I’m not interested in anyone.”

And then, he says it. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to truly hear.

“...You seemed interested.”

“So you are worried.” You’re crossing your arms and he stares down into your hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What if I was? You clearly had nothing to say about it. You were right there- you didn’t tell him we had history? Or did I mean that little to you?”

You’re mad. Holy shit, you’re still so mad at him. But then his brain scrambles to tell him the good side of things- anger is not indifference. So in some ways, maybe more than others, he’s still in that little dome of yours ratting around amongst your thoughts. Means that if he does this right, it would mean something to you to be better this time. 

His lips press into a tight line. He should have talked to you, and now it’s biting him in the ass. It seemed like everything always bit him in the end. And he always let it happen, watched and never interfered. You drive the nail you’d plunged into him even deeper when you throw his words, from all those years ago, right back in his face. That last thing he had said to you before you, or the idea of you, had become a black hole.

“You know what, Nam-gyu? What was it you had said? Oh- uh, why don’t you focus on yourself and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

It stings. It stings so bad that he physically recoils from the sound of his voice on your tongue, words spilling that just don’t seem right coming from you. Bitter resentment rises in his throat, this reflexive coping mechanism to bite back overtaking his senses. He wants to say I shouldn’t have said that. He wants to say, hear me out. But what ends up leaving him is just as ugly as the rest of his feelings. 

“Jesus. You’re still a bitch.”

The very instance those words tumble from him, he’s already regretting it with every fiber of his being. Even more so when you pluck your bento box from the guard and spin on your heels to glare absolute daggers into the very pits of his soul.

“Get over yourself. I’m glad we had this talk, it was very refreshing.”

This time he does jump to stop you, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Just listen-”

“No.” 

He doesn’t hide the way he watches you scamper off to your little ledge, hopping up onto your bed and enjoying your vantage point above all else, focusing on your meal. The man you’d been chatting with earlier is in the bed next to yours and that’s just fucking great. The guard has to pry his stare off of you, and a bento box is practically shoved into his chest, urging him out of line. 

Nam-gyu hates the stone anchoring in his guts. Almost as much as he hates how his appetite never quite returned. All food tasted the same when you left, nothing compared to what you’d used to make him. 

The bento box was no different. 

That night, sleep avoided him. There was something keeping him awake- buzzing under his skin no matter how many times he’d rolled over and shifted himself into a new position. Of course he knew what it was- it never really left him, after all. The fact of knowing you were across the room, all alone in your bed, was this incessant knock in the back of his skull tapping him back into reality whenever he found himself comfortable enough to doze off. His mind was stuck on you, as always, wondering what you looked like right now. 

Did you sleep the same as before? Laying on your side, hair messed over the sides of your face and splayed over the pillow, those heavy lashes of yours kissing along the bone of your cheeks. He always told himself that it was you who was attached, that he was some great being and you simply touched the stars through him. How wrong he had been to think that, when the entire time he’d fit so perfectly against you, he a piece to your puzzle. 

How wrong he had been, because when he’s staring up idly at the ceiling, he thinks of the better days in his life. Always, always, it was you. Thinking of you sitting pretty in his passenger seat, watching out the window as the world blurred by in rushes. The wind blowing through your hair, your necklace catching the glint of the sun. You’d feel his eyes on you and you'd turn and smile at him so darling, so lovely, that he thought it could heal. Remembering when you’d walk into a room, shining like a beacon just for him. You’d find his lap, find his hair, find his lips against your own and you’d cry his name like a prayer. 

He was an idiot to have thought he was the something in the nothing- it was you. 

Even when he finally drifted off into sleep were you still infecting the very membrane of his mind. In his dreams, you were just as warm as you had always been. Bated breaths, hanging onto every word that left his lips, fingers that longed to touch and stroke and feel. His heart slowed to a peaceful beat, and his body curled into his pillow and blanket, trying to recreate the shape of you in his arms. For a time that evening, it worked. 

But then he woke up, and Thanos was leaning over his bed asking him if he was dead, and all those wonderful moments he’d relived were gone in a rush of bright lights and endless chatter bouncing off the walls of the dormitory. Like an addiction, the first thing he thought of when he sat up, was you. Thought about you all the way through the winding staircases and into a giant room with rainbow’s painted over the hard floor. So lost in thought that he almost misses it when the speaker starts instructing them- a 5 player minigame race. 

Teams of five. Okay, he could do that. Easy. Gyeong-su, him, Thanos. That was already three. 

It’s natural instinct when he starts to search for you in the bubble of people, his fourth member, even though he’s more than sure you’re all too excited to send him packing. The way you had looked at him at dinner the day before, he wasn’t sure if you’d even entertain a conversation with him at all, let alone join their team. But this is beyond an argument- beyond him trying and failing to lull you in, this is life and death. 

“Hey, there’s your girl again.” Thanos spots you first. He follows Thanos’s line of sight and sure enough, there you are, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets with this far away expression he can’t quite read. 

His girl. It would make him shiver, if he wasn’t already on the brink of tweaking. 

“Let’s go see if she’s changed her mind.” 

Thanos is running his hands through his hair and popping the collar of his tracksuit, a particular bounce to his step when he bounds right for you. Just as the first time, always on the lookout for yourself, you spot him coming before he gets to you. Already you’re annoyed.

By the time Nam-gyu slithers up beside him, you’re already turning Thanos’s first wave of advancements down, a snark to your tone and a glint in your eyes. 

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Thanos blinks, looks left and then right. “You’re good? I don’t see a team?”

“I’ll find one.”

“You got one right here,” He pats his chest again, before he slings his arm over Nam-gyu’s shoulder haphazardly. “Come on. You’ll be safe.”

The intensity in which you roll your eyes is fierce- an expression Nam-gyu really had only thought he could draw out of you. To make matters worse for his friend, you don’t even bother with saying no again. Instead you merely wave a dismissive hand and turn on your heels, meandering into the crowd. 

“You were right, Nam-su.” Thanos’s face drops and he unwinds his arm from Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “Not getting anywhere with that one.”

Nam-gyu is so focused watching you, that all he murmurs is, “It’s Nam-gyu.”

“Yeah. Nam-su, Nam-gyu. Look over there.” He has to force himself to look away, following Thanos’s point in the other direction you’d gone. A girl with short black hair stands off to the side, eyes traveling and sizing up all her potential team mates. Thanos pops his collar again, a hound dog chasing a brand new scent. “Let’s go see what she’s up to.”

For the first time, Nam-gyu doesn’t follow him. He says, you go, you go, and lets Thanos wind himself up all on his own before watching him go. He’s much more concerned with you and your team, this sense of anxiety starting to bud in his gut. 

He finds you like a moth to flame. Your shoulders slump at the sight of him, tired and irked. 

“Not this again.” You groan. “What, do you think you’re gonna come sweeten me up and I’ll say yes? I’m not playing on your damn team.”

Nam-gyu shakes his head and steps in front of you when you try to turn away again. His nerves are on the rise, and so is his temper. You draw it out of him like nothing else, he can’t stop himself. 

“Why not?” He asks, looking down at you with furrowed brows. You cross your arms, barring yourself from him. 

“Because I’m not.”

“This is no time to be stubborn. You don’t know what the next game is. You might need guys on your team.”

“I plan on it. There’s other men here other than you and whatever the hell his name is.”

Other men. Nam-gyu’s mouth dries up, his fingers already wringing in his sleeves. His jaw tenses with his temper, teeth grinding. 

You didn’t need other men, not when he would do anything under the sun to keep you safe. Anyone else may just let you die. Can’t you see that? 

“Why are you being-... Being like-...” He stops himself. Holy shit, his brain actually fires off the warning shot and he stops dead in his tracks staring at you in bewilderment. You adopt this expectant glare, a spiteful uptick to your lips that darkens your eyes. 

“Say it.” You sneer. “Go ahead, say it. I’m being a bitch, right?”

The word fights against his lips to get out. You’re waiting for it, at the edge of your seat, fully ready to take it in and chew it up and spit it out right back at him. But he bites it back and he swallows it down into his chest because this means something to him. Because it might mean something to you. 

“Being like this.” He stammers. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Your eyes widen just a fraction. “Keep me alive?”

“Can you really trust anyone here? You know me.”

“I do know you.” A flash of something provoked and somber rivets within your eyes. Anger mounting, your heart colliding with your brain in real time right before him. “That’s exactly why I won’t be on your side.”

If he’d had his foot in the door before, you were properly shoving it back outside. He doesn't know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think of as a creature of impulse, and unfortunately when it came to you that meant he was all hands. 

“Wait-” He catches you just as you’re turning away, tries to bulldoze over your defiance and smooth out all the harsh edges of your protests with the broad flats of his palms. Fingers clutching your tracksuit at your shoulders and then he’s realizing that he’s touching you for the first time in years. Your skin from underneath your jacket is just as warm he remembers, your eyes are just as doe-like at his touch too. Stubborn and ornery but overflowing with passion and static energy that settled into his bones. He needs it, he needs it. The obsession of you hits him in waves of yearn. 

He needs you more than air, he thinks. 

“Get your hands off of me, right now.” But you aren’t tearing him away- so maybe that’s progress. 

“Come on.” He ducks his head, shoulders slumping, and it physically hurts him to feel this desperate. “Stay with me.”

Oh, you don’t like those words one bit. They hit your eardrums and your eyes narrow in slits, and then yeah, you’re reaching up and catching his wrists in his iron grip before ripping his paws off your jacket. It takes a long moment for you to speak, but when you do, he swears he can hear the devil amidst the heartache. 

“You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again.”

His hands twitch to touch you again- anything to keep you there for a moment longer. 

“Come on.” 

Sadness like pits swirl in your eyes, drags your lips into a frown. “You gotta’ stop Nam-gyu. I can’t do it.”

An awful, awful mass grows in his stomach when you turn your back on him. Gets bigger with every inch you build between you and him, threatens to take over entirely and swallow him whole right in the middle of that room. If it did, and he was to be gulped up by the void, perhaps he wouldn't have to feel like this any longer. And he wouldn’t have to watch you disappear behind all the moving bodies. 

He was weaker than he was three years ago. You made him weaker. Back then, if you’d been so sure of yourself he found it rather easy to deter you. A beastly way about him when he would have just ripped you by the hand and brought you over to his team and made you sit the hell down and just stay with him. Something possessive, something under his skin at the thought of you sharing the same air as anyone other than him. You used to be so malleable in his hands- but he knows, now more than ever, that that was truly never the case. You let yourself be pliable. You let yourself fall to him. He could never, not even now, make you do anything. Not really. 

That’s the part that burns him to the peaks of his soul. That strength about you. You’re so much stronger than him, with an energy iron so it’s like running headfirst into a wall when you’d no longer graced him with your softness. Such a double edged sword, that will of yours. That attitude and the passion made him feel alive. Cold and disposed after you’d properly slammed the gate right in his face. No leverage, no space for him in your heart any longer. 

It’s cold, Nam-gyu finds. Lonely without you. 

And then Thanos goes and invites some random girl with a poor attitude (that isn’t yours) and an even weaker buddy. He tries to tell him- remind his friend of the potential disadvantage but like always all it took was a dismissive wave to get him to screw his lips shut. Rolled over, tongue caught in his throat, weakened. 

He spends a majority of his time waiting for his teams turn arguing with Se-mi and tossing gazes over his shoulder to keep a very keen eye on you, only to find a sneer growing on his features after seeing you chatting with the same player as earlier, the man with the bed next to yours. Laughter and smiles roll from your lips as natural as breathing air, and he’s nudging you with his arm and you’re letting him with this expression of pure amusement. 

That should be him. 

That ugly face of betrayal peeks through the cracks all over again, with guilt and anger and regret following in tow close behind. Sitting on his shoulders like little devils, spinning and racing through his body in waves. If you saw his face- you’d never suspect it, but his hands shake in his lap. His jaw tenses so tightly his teeth could burst into powder. Squared shoulders and an endless drag to his lips. Something in the sight of you enjoying that guys presence is reminding him of all these shitty feelings he’d been faced with when you two were together- well, no, not together, he remembers- and then he’s even angrier. Angry at you, angry at that random ass player you were talking up, angry at himself for letting it get here in the first place. 

Thanos pops open his necklace beside him and draws a fun little pill from its contents, and Nam-gyu makes it a mission to get his hands on one of those sweet little pick-me-ups. The pill is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it down in delight. And it works, too, because the moment the colors start to glow and fuse together and all sounds become this echoing fishbowl of noises, you’re vacated from the corners of his fuzzy mind. For a time, he’s at peace all over again, lost in the blurry joy. 

By the time he comes down, he’s already back in the dormitory. 

Though it takes a moment for him to realize it, he’s taking inventory of all the surviving players. One by one, watching them fill the room and find their creaky beds or their little groups. Most were distraught, though some were particularly perturbed. It takes a couple teams before he understands that what he’s really looking for, naturally, is you. He’s always searching for you, even when he knew you weren’t searching for him back. 

That’s the change, and it dawns on him like a rapture. He’d never had to care before- you were always this constant in his life, something that would always bounce right back if he tossed you aside. He didn’t give a damn if it upset you, he didn’t give a damn if it ate away at you like termites through wood. But now he does, and he gives so many damn’s they’re driving him crazy. 

Any moment spent sober and lucid were moments entirely taken up by you.

Any moment now you’ll come strutting through those doors, head held high and gunning it to make sure Nam-gyu knew exactly how much you didn’t need him. 

But then ten teams turn into twenty, and twenty five into thirty. 

“How many teams were there?” Nam-gyu asks with a voice steadier than even he expected. Thanos doesn’t need to question anything, watching the doorway all the same. 

“Fifty-six.” Se-mi hums from her spot, leaning back against the steps. 

Thirty eventually turns to fifty. 

Too much time has passed, and you’ve still yet to pop out through that doorway. He double checks those who’d already shown their faces, hoping to find you through the cracks of them, but you’re simply not there. There’s a shovel digging pits and moats into his stomach. Another wave of players trickles in and he scans them all over the same, only to feel that hollowness inside him grow once more. They saunter to their beds, to their little groups, taking up space and taking up air that should belong to you. 

Where the hell were you?

“Only two teams left,” Thanos hums. “Where’s that girl of yours?”

Nam-gyu can’t force himself to answer this time around. So, instead, he presses his nails between his teeth and nervously shifts his weight from left to right. Though he shrugs, the anxiety within him was palpable, all lines and tension that he tried to bury with nonchalance. But it wasn’t working, and felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Mind racing, thoughts circling him like birds over fresh kill. The final team walks through the doorway, slow as zombies, shifty eyed and hurriedly rushing to their beds. His eyes sit on the door, waiting, waiting. 

No one comes through. 

His shoulders fall limp. 

You didn’t make it. 

“That’s a shame.” Se-mi sighs, the sound swimming in Nam-gyu’s ears. 

Loss, real loss was a foreign feeling within his chest. He’d seen it described in the movies, in songs, this soul eating all consuming weight that blanketed over bodies and crushed, but nothing could have ever prepared for the blistering moment it wrenches itself within the confines of his heart, within the deep ache of his bones. It didn’t settle properly in his throat- his body trying to force the alien ripple of dread stitching itself right between his ribs. It hurts- his lungs can’t take in air. His breath wheezes past his lips in shallow pants, unable to tear his eyes away, like at any moment you’ll suddenly materialize right before him. 

He presses his lip into a tight line and digs his nails into his palms, anything to release a fraction of the agony festering within his body. 

Brain on fire, shaking hands and the image of you dead in a thousand different flashes, a sting to his waterlines that has him scrambling to shove his fingers against the thin skin. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“Bad luck. Sorry, boy.”

All the skin on his body has flushed red and sticky. He ducks his head down towards his lap, desperate to hide within himself, even more desperate to hide this part of himself from the watchful eyes of his group. He should have just made you join them. Should have thrown you over his shoulder and wrapped an immovable grasp around your arm and held you hostage until everyone had a team and then you’d have no one else to turn to. No one else, nothing else except for him. 

He can’t even hear his friend’s counterfeit empathy over the swell of his heartbeat in his ears. His body is too heavy to hold up, his arms dragging as lead, his head even heavier on his shoulders. Uncanny urges to tear at the skin of his face overcome him and he has to bury them into his hair in release, roughly running his digits through the black locks, trying to breathe and breathe and breathe. A lump the size of a boulder burrows into his throat.

Cracking his eyes open to peek down at his lip, squeezing them shut when his vision is wet and blurry. His lower lip trembles until it’s caught in his teeth, biting hard into the skin. 

Don't fucking cry.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? If you’d have just let him take care of you this one fucking time, you would be alive right now. You should be alive right now- pissed and glaring fury in his direction but breathing and taking up space and existing-

“Ah, they made it. Here I thought they were all goners.”

Se-mi’s casual tone barely reaches him, but it’s got him frantically flicking his gaze back up to the archway, his hands falling from his face, trying to see through the blotches in his sight. A handful of players take soft steps into the room, all shaken up, all bewildered.

There you are. His racing heart stops entirely.

You’re sauntering into the dormitory like a wounded animal, all hands wringing out in front of you and lines drawn into your frown. For the first time, in Nam-gyu’s eyes, you look small. Frightened. Every step you take has a weight to it he’s never witnessed you bear. And even from across the room, even with rigid tears trapped in the corners of his eyes, he can see the grip of fear on the flat of your throat. 

All those jumping thoughts settle into a tunnel vision, you at the epicenter of his quaking nerves simmering down into stillness. He forgets how his chest had twisted as if a knife had been planted between his collarbones, and he forgets how he had almost lost his lunch right there on the floor. All because you’re standing there in the middle of the room hugging yourself, white as a ghost, even paler when you lift your head up and see the way Nam-gyu is trapped in your line of sight. 

Nam-gyu see’s it. No hate, no dejection. 

Relief- this instant where your widened eyes soften, your frown lifts into a slack-jawed breath of solace. It rocks his world when it hits him and it lights a flame so hot under his skin it’s burning through his veins. All the air trapped in his lungs leaves him at once and he can pinpoint the exact moment all the tensions in his shoulders and back melt away in nothingness. The tears dry, his lower lip released from his gnashing teeth.

The man you’d joined earlier pats your shoulder and offers you a pathetic, wavering thumbs up. You can’t seem to return his dull enthusiasm. In fact, you look worse than Nam-gyu’s seen you thus far. Changed, all wires sticking exposed and sparking. There’s this lifelessness to your body when you climb up the stairs and have to heave yourself up into your bed, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your palms propped up over your knees. 

When your eyes meet his, he expects some sort of sign of contempt, or perhaps maybe you’d refuse to meet his gaze entirely. Instead, for the first time since you’d arrived, you find him first. 

You offer him a pitiful open palmed wave. 

The pearly gates crack open and Nam-gyu feels it again- warmth. Even just a little bit, like lighting a match in a snowstorm, huddling around the flame. He half cocks a smile, and he waves back. 

--

Lunch came quicker than he’d anticipated, and much to Nam-gyu’s dismay, you weren’t exactly thrilled to hop into line. In fact, ever since you’d let him jam his fingers back into your closing door, you’d hardly acknowledged anything other than your lap. Even more so upsetting, that player you hung around tapped your mattress to gather your attention, pointing to the line, sighing in defeat when you’d shook your head. 

Jealousy seeps into his wounds all over again, quiet, but equally as simmering. Don’t act like you know her. Little devils tapping away at his psyche. She doesn't need you to check up on her.

But then again, he realizes, maybe you do. 

His mouth dries when the sound of his thoughts footsteps come running up on him. His greed. His innate ability to leave you unchecked and grappling. That was among the sea of problems Nam-gyu had been struggling to grasp. Here he was, trying to drag you back into the tar pits of his hold and he hadn’t even tried the basics of kindness. The step one of it all. Always taking, taking, taking and demanding more at every swipe. Always expecting, never building. 

So he jumps into line before he can second guess himself, and he takes his bento box with a grateful nod and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chasing the trail of you to your bed. From your high point, perched and unmoving, all he can do is climb the stairs and rest his hands over the corner of your mattress. Your far away gaze lifts from your lap and settles down to him. 

The air is different. The landscape of you has changed. 

“What is it.” Your tone is uncannily flat, but it’s void of its bite, its drive. 

“Can I come up?” 

It’s a simple request, but it leaves a shake at the end of his sentence. It’s only natural when he mentally prepares himself for you to slap no onto his forehead, but you scoot over, and he takes the spot so quickly you wouldn’t even have the chance to say no if you thought about it too much. He hoists himself up and over, fills the gap at your side, just as he should have done days ago. He sits the bento box at the crest of your lap.

“What’s this?” Blinking down at the food, you make no effort to pick it up. 

“Fish and rice.” Nam-gyu shrugs. “Looks like an egg, too.” 

“I can see that. I meant, what are you doing giving me this?”

“...You didn’t get anything.”

As your fingers gingerly touch the container, eyes scanning over the contents, Nam-gyu feels he can breathe easier. This is a win for him- you aren’t fighting him anymore. Still on the edge, always ready to run, but the look in your eyes isn’t pure hatred or outright hurt. A swell of pride overcomes him when you pluck the chopstick and murmur, thank you. 

You’re pliable. Now, more than ever. 

You eat in silence. He lets you eat in silence, even though peace isn’t exactly one of his virtues.  Partly because he doesn’t know what to say to you, but mostly because he’s got this innate fear that he’s going to say something shitty and you’re going to hate him all over again for it. A million words are always shoving and pushing against his lips and he fumbles with navigating them. So, silence, it is. 

But it doesn’t bother him. Silence meant that you were simply just there, existing, the one thing he had longed for over the years. He knew, deep in his heart, he’d fucked up when he began to miss the very presence of you. No sex, no drugs, no push or pull, just you. And now he gets to take whatever you’ll give in micro doses, greedy and starved for you. Fighting the urge to pull you into himself where you could never climb out. He refrains- he forces himself to just be there. 

No longer could he be the creature he had been all those years ago. He had to be different- not all rough edges and clawing hands, ripping and taking. Or dark eyes watching your every move, or jagged words cutting your flesh with the highs and lows of his tone. Something better, this time. Something for you. 

Tomorrow would be a new beast entirely. And, in less than a few hours, the lights would flicker off and bask the dormitory into hues of red and blues. You would lay alone in your all-too-large bed and he would sink into his mattress drugged out of his mind thinking countless thoughts of you, you, you. The distance would feel like miles- he needed you right there, right then, always. Anything other than what he had sitting beside you was a vast ocean. 

The bento box appears in front of his lap, half eaten.

“You’re not going to eat it?” Nam-gyu’s brows knit.

“You should eat, too. What, scared of my germs now?” You murmur, and when he meets your eyeline, he sees something familiar in those hues. Something nurturing, sweet. Tender. 

Nam-gyu picks up the chopsticks, and he eats.  For the first time in years, his food tastes like food.

[satsugacafe]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐜̧𝐚𝐝𝐞

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: hellooo love ur blog <3 can I request hcs for soul society!aizen with a reader who isnt charmed easily and is a bit skeptical of his façade?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I was originally going to turn this into a fic (even though you asked for headcanons), but I was running out of creativity juices to keep it flowing :( It just sounded like it would be a great fic.

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When you don’t fall for Aizen’s two-faced performance during his time in the Gotei 13

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა From the moment you joined the Gotei 13, you found yourself on the outskirts of every conversation involving Aizen. His reputation preceded him—calm, composed, effortlessly kind, with a voice that could soothe even the most restless souls. But something about him didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t that he was rude or ever out of place. Quite the opposite. He was too perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d seen captains and lieutenants before. They were powerful, commanding presences, many of them hardened by battle and responsibility. Yet Aizen…smiled too easily. It wasn’t that his kindness seemed forced; it was that it never wavered. No one was that consistently unshakeable. People had cracks, moments of frustration, and lapses in their carefully crafted facades. But him? Not once. And that was enough to make you wary.

˚₊‧꒰ა He noticed you watching him. Of course he did. Aizen was a man who missed nothing. But he never confronted it directly. He didn’t need to. He was too skilled at playing the game of subtlety. Instead, he’d catch your eye in meetings, offer a faint smile when your gazes met across the training grounds, and always, always address you with a tone that felt meticulously chosen.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You seem thoughtful,” he said one day, catching you in a quiet corridor after a meeting had ended. His voice was light and conversational, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made you feel like you were being measured. “Do you often get lost in your thoughts like that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You weren’t in the habit of being easily charmed by flowery words or gentle tones. You shrugged, not bothering to hide your suspicion. “Only when things don’t add up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile never faltered, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “And what, may I ask, isn’t adding up for you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You knew better than to voice your thoughts outright. Aizen wasn’t the type of man you could accuse without solid evidence. He was too clever, too calculated. So instead, you shrugged again. “That would be telling.”

˚₊‧꒰ა It wasn’t the response he was expecting, and for a brief moment, the mask slipped. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression sharpening before he smoothed it over again. “Curious,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re not like the others.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His words hung in the air, and you knew he wasn’t talking about your combat skills or your rank within the Gotei 13. He was talking about your mind. About how you weren’t so easily swayed by his charm, how you saw the cracks in his otherwise perfect veneer.

˚₊‧꒰ა After that, he started to take a subtle interest in you. Nothing overt, nothing that would raise suspicion among your peers. But you noticed the way he seemed to gravitate toward you during group discussions, how his gaze would linger on you just a fraction longer than anyone else’s.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you not trust me?” he asked one day, his tone light and amused as if the question were a joke. But you could see the weight behind his words. He was testing you.

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t smile. “I don’t distrust you. But I also don’t trust anyone blindly.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He laughed. “A wise approach. Trust, after all, is a dangerous thing to give freely.”

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you could feel him trying to draw you in, to make you let your guard down. He’d offer small compliments, casual remarks about your skill or your insight. But you never gave him the reaction he was looking for.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You must think me terribly boring,” he said once, with that same faint smile. “Always so serious, always so composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you replied, meeting his gaze head-on. “I think you’re too composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He chuckled at that, but there was no humour in it. “And what would you have me do? Shout? Lose my temper? Would that make me more trustworthy in your eyes?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It would make you more human,” you said simply.

˚₊‧꒰ა That response seemed to catch him off guard. His smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Ah, but aren’t we all striving to rise above our baser instincts? Isn’t that what it means to be a Shinigami?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t miss the irony in his words. He spoke of control, of discipline, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested something far more dangerous beneath the surface.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, your interactions became a dance of sorts. A careful balancing act where neither of you showed your full hand. He’d make a remark, and you’d deflect. He’d offer a compliment; you’d question the intent behind it. It was a game, and you both knew it.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one day, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Seireitei, “I admire your caution. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t take things at face value.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Is that so?” you replied, not bothering to hide the scepticism in your voice.

˚₊‧꒰ა He smiled again, that same enigmatic smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Indeed. It’s…refreshing.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite your reservations, you couldn’t deny that Aizen was fascinating. There was something undeniably enigmatic about him, something that drew people in despite themselves. But you refused to be one of those people. You refused to let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you ever wonder why people are so quick to trust?” he asked one day, his tone almost philosophical. “Why do they cling to the idea of certainty, even when it’s an illusion?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Because it’s easier,” you replied. “It’s easier to believe in someone than to question everything they say.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “And you? You prefer the harder path?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “I prefer the truth,” you said firmly.

˚₊‧꒰ა His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, and you could see the gears turning in his mind. He was calculating, always calculating, but you never gave him the satisfaction of knowing what you were thinking.

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you wondered if he found your scepticism amusing, or if it frustrated him. Perhaps it was both. After all, he was used to people falling in line, to people believing in his carefully crafted persona. But you? You saw through the cracks.

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” he mused one day, “to always be so guarded.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” you countered, “to always wear a mask.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That made him pause, and for the briefest moment, you saw something shift in his expression. But then the mask was back in place, and he offered you another one of his enigmatic smiles. “Touché.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite everything, you couldn’t deny that there was a strange sort of mutual respect between you. He recognised your intelligence, your unwillingness to be swayed. And you recognised the danger lurking beneath his polished exterior.

˚₊‧꒰ა In another life, you might have trusted him. You might have even admired him. But in this life, you knew better. Aizen Sousuke was a man of many layers, and you had no intention of peeling them back only to find yourself ensnared in his web.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’ll never trust me, will you?” he asked one day, his tone almost wistful.

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you said without hesitation. “But I’ll respect you for what you are.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile that day was different. Softer, more genuine. But you knew better than to believe it was real. Because with Aizen, nothing ever was.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @edensrose

©satsugacafé: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[dalishbarmitzvah]

(moving right on past the obvious and very bleak "lots of people will flat out never be persuaded to care about jews and the best you can hope for is that they are not actively happy about jewish suffering"...)

to sum up what follows (mostly, honestly, me wandering through my own work to understand), tldr:

people genuinely do not know. they do not seek out our stories, are not given them by sources they , being truly informed about current events is very complicated, and most people have poor critical reading skills, have not learned how to consume varied sources, and do not know how to synthesise from varied sources before coming to conclusions or forming strong opinions, nor do they feel that is a requirement

the 24 hour news cycle, digital news outlets, and social media have created a media news climate in which people are more likely to believe they know things than they are to actually be informed on things, and is more likely to both create and maintain echo chambers (now filled with people who believe that it would be impossible for them to be in an echo chamber)

goys are generally not incentivized to do the work to seek out or stay up to date on things involving jews, israel, or antisemitism, and are less likely to encounter them, less likely to engage with them deeply or deliberately or often, and are less likely to be able to recognize propaganda, falsehoods, stereotypes, and fearmongering present in any reporting they do encounter.

centrist news outlets are doing the world a major disservice by being largely silent about jewish issues or israel beyond the most bombastic headlines, and neither right-wing nor leftist outlets are picking up the slack in any honest way, as both peddle very narrow, very biased perspectives when and if they bother sharing them at all.

in regard to mainstream journalism at large: they are failing to do their actual jobs (thourough, nuanced, non-biased news coverage) largely because of the broken way that people get their news (see #2) and the ways in which that has deincentivized journalism from coverage of anything less likely to get clicks and views. people don't click on stuff they think is too confusing, not relevant to their lives, too boring, etc. 24 hour news becoming the norm means doing away with the kind of informed person who would read their daily or weekly paper(s) cover to cover (or at least all the actual news parts). that same person, faced with an endless barrage of articles to click on, can never finish reading, and is, therefore, less likely to start reading things that challenge them or their perspective than they might have been if they had encountered them in print. for the increasingly rare news-reading goy, this means less clicks on articles related to jewish or israeli issues, which in turn means that the sites they're clicking on are less likely to pay anyone to write those articles

many people get their news almost exclusively from their social media feeds, which are curated to show them more of what they've already engaged with, and less of anything else. video content condensing articles skimmed from sources trouble by everything i already mentioned is in no way a balanced news diet, but for a lot of people, that is all they get - alongside a chillingly common pressure to form and hold strong stances on basically every single issue you can possibly imagine, with negative social consequences for admitting you don't know or don't have an opinion on something.

in this context: people facing a constant barrage of overexposure to news and perspectives from all over the world are lead to believe that everything that is happening is something they're aware of, and, as a logical inverse, that if they haven't seen anything about something, that it may as well not exist, not be happening, and not be real. (again, see #2).

compassion fatigue. just like we can't know about everything, we also cannot care about everything. and, let's face it: not caring about jews comes very naturally to most goys. this is the part where i say that i understand your outrage, but on a very real, practical level, you must understand that we are a minority many people know next to nothing about (though they often think they know about us, which is another problem), and that goyim who do not share their lives or communities directly with jews who remind them of their jewishness fairly regularly are unlikely to be very aware of us or what we're facing.

so this is the one thing you can do something about: you can be unavoidably jewish in the lives of non-jews, and it will remind them that jews exist, that we are real and complex beings who are worthy of attention and love. you can discuss these issues, publicly or personally, and it will prompt them to learn more, and to see more in places they may not have seen it before otherwise. you can remain steadfast and informed, and you can share what you know, believe, and feel, with people who would otherwise never have a glimpse of it. you can succeed where major news outlets are failing: you can be the reason why at least a few people do know and do care. it will take patience, it will take work. it will not be easy, or painless, or short... but it will also not be thankless. be jewish. live jewishly. share your jewish perspective with people you are in community with. show them that you have it to offer, and encourage them to seek it. this, too, is tikkun olam.

aaand under the cut is the Long, Somewhat Meandering Version that i came back around and synthesized down into that still-too-long-still-didn't-read up there. in other words, that up there is the Post, and what follows is rough draft. it's worth keeping there enough for me, for my own notes, but it's a lot of words and they're not all in the best order, so.

OK. SO.

first off, it would probably help if sources that aren't israeli or jewish reported any of it. it's become very obvious to me that very few people, for reasons both more and less valid, trust israeli news sources, or seek them out. even people who read multiple american newspapers to get perspective on issues don't bother with reading outlets that are actually involved in events discussed directly. maybe if some more western journos would sprout some fucking integrity for once and source back or platform voices on the ground there, it would help a bit.

i mean, sure, plenty of people will never give a shit, either because they've got deep-seated antisemitic tendencies, or because they're just blindly apolitical (or, charitably, some perhaps because they're focused on their direct communities. i know some people really are that way, and honestly good for them). but i think, perhaps because jews are culturally raised to be critical readers who are deeply informed about the world around them, and trained from a very young age to see patterns and connections in things, that it doesn't occur to us that a lot of people are just profoundly not like that. as a result, it's easy to see antisemitism in places where it's actually genuine ignorance - and a lot of that is very difficult to combat.

it takes real, significant effort to seek out varied sources for your news, and it takes real, significant effort - not to mention learned, practiced skill! - to sift out a more holistic image of the truth by reading between the lines and seeing what is reported where and by whom and in what ways... and also what isn't. and what i keep seeing in my own critical news reading (which is far from fully comprehensive!) is that you have to go pretty far from the sources most people are most familiar with to see beyond a few very curated images of what's happening in israel, what's going on with the hostages, what's going on globally or domestically in america or in various places in europe with jews there, etc. we see the jewish story all the time, because we live it, and we look for it, and we know how to.

but the reality is that the average goy doesn't even know enough about jews, or israel, to know that not all jews are israeli or zionist, not all zionists believe the same things, not all israelis support everything the israeli government is doing all the time, and not all israelis are jewish. they frankly barely know what jews are, except that they are Other. so how could they possibly know enough to see patterns rippling throughout the entire world beyond in varied and nuanced and horrifying ways. they will never, ever see the patterns we see. they have not been trained to do so, and they are, by and large, not going to take the genuinely immense time and effort it takes to get to that point.

so, maybe they don't know because they

people only see what they see in the sources they do see (obviously) - and those sources are very, very narrow in what they report on. the only western sources that are talking about it are far right or so-"left"-we're-accidentally-reinventing-fascism-here-too type sources, and they paint the issue in the strokes that aids their preexisting perspective (which is never truly a human one for jews, nor for israelis). most people aren't going to be picking up the jerusalem post anytime soon, but they might read the new york times or the washington post or a local paper (or, more likely, watch cnn or msnbc. or fox. or whatever.). so they're only getting what those outlets report on - and they just really don't report much on the human details of things like this. so that's one thing that could be done - centrist sources could report more, could print journalism that's closer to the source more often. but people might skip those articles. i've read studies that indicate that's exactly what people do - that digital newspapers specifcally make it so much easier for people to simply never encounter or engage with stuff outside their bubble, because you choose what to click on, and you choose when to stop, and so few people read "the whole paper" anymore (or even could, considering how many things are just published scattershot, random articles dropping all throughout the day!) so it would help some if that reporting was better, but honestly, with the kind of shape that news media is in right now... that's far from straightforward.

but of course, that's only applicable to people who even consume primary news sources to begin with... and increasingly, i encounter more and more people who are willing to freely admit that they have opinions and thoughts and believe they know things about stuff they haven't even done the basic research or reading on. and frankly, i don't know how we deal with that! the news-opinions zeitgeist we're in right now is frankly weird as fuck: people are less educated, from less diverse sources, on average, while also feeling pressure to have strong opinions and thoughts that they cannot (and should not) possibly form on their own. the way so, so many people consume news increasingly from algorithmic social media streams has done immense damage - people intrinsically believe that shit they saw on tiktok is Reporting (there have been studies showing that people tend to view news/opinions coming from people they percieve as familiar to them as being more likely to be truthful, and that that translates to, y'know... people in your phone who absolutely you do not know in real life and should not be trusting that way!). carrying on from that: if they DON'T see something "reported on" within in their circle/on their feed, then that means it's not happening. not even just that they don't know about it, but literally that it's not real. because we all know everything about everything. all the time. it's right there. the algorithm feeds it to us constantly. people think that if something was happening, surely someone would have mentioned it to them by now. i don't think people are mostly aware of this, at all, either... and that makes it all the more insidious.

used to be, people knew that there was plenty they didn't know about, because they knew how hard it was to learn about things that happened far away.... but now, with anyone in the world* being able to hop on their smart phone and say 'hey i'm from the other side of the planet and here's what's happening here*' (*at least, allegedly)? i think people genuinely don't consider that things might be happening that they haven't heard about. we hear about everything, all the time. 24 hour news cycle. digital newspapers. tiktok influencers sharing bite-sized news stories distilled from articles you haven't read to know if they actually read them either, from sources you're not familiar enough with to discern how much trust to put in them. videos of people in the worst parts of war zones staring directly at you and begging you for help you cannot possibly give them. but most people don't see images of released hostages. they don't see headlines from israeli journalists - not the deep propaganda, and not the honest ones. they don't see images of israeli activists or protestors who are fighting alongside and for their palestinian neighbours. if they see anyone on the ground in the area at all, they see desperate begging, and they see hamas propaganda - and it never occurs to them that parts of this story are missing... because we all see everything all the time. if it were happening, if it were real, then we would know. surely, we would have seen it already.

it makes it all the more funny when you hear people spout off about how jews are controlling the media or israel is controlling america or whatever nonsense... like surely, if any of us, the israeli state included, actually were controlling any of that, they would make it a little bit harder for people to avoid ever knowing anything firsthand about any of it.

so what can we do?

we can help them see us, hear us, know us, and love us. not everyone, not the ones who refuse, not the ones who hate us and won't budge. but we can be present in our communities and visible to our colleages and friends.

people are not going to notice and not going to care about things they have no reason to notice or care about. they're not going to form a nuanced perspective on israeli politics or modern pogroms or whether or not ben shapiro has ever heard of pikuach nefesh or not. they're not going to understand what jews are and aren't, what we can be, what we have been, what's happening to us. they're not going to see news that isn't being reported where they get their news... unless they see YOU.

it can be maddening, to have such a tiny little impact, but also incredibly gratifying. i am one of the only visible jews in the small town where i live, and i am very visible, and i never, ever shut the fuck up about it. people who know me at all know that i am jewish, and by talking to me, i can help them understand, and learn, and pay attention, and be vigilant on our behalf. i have seen it work. i have heard people tell me that they started noticing antisemitism in news sources they used to read - and that they stopped trusting them because of it. i have had people ask me for where to look for more information on issues they had heard only whispers about and didn't trust their ability to google on their own (which i really, really appreciate). i have had people tell me how grateful they are to know me and to learn from me. without me, they would likely have either never been prompted to have those thoughts, or they would have never pursued them very far, because they would have lacked a trusted sounding board. i know, for a fact, that people on (mostly) all sides of the political spectrum around me have come closer to seeing jews, and to seeing jews as human, because of me.

i have helped leftists gain perspective on israel, showed them how to see through propaganda (israeli, hamas, and evangelical), how to notice antisemitic slogans and rhetoric, taught them about the realities of israeli mandatory service, shared about my mom's experience living on a kibbutz, taught them some of the history of zionism and of the state of israel. because of me, people i know are telling people i don't know that "from the river to the sea" derives from a sentiment of violent antisemitism, and because of me, people i know are aware that israeli activists and objectors who share their concerns about the israeli government exist and fight alongside their palestinian neighbours to make their country a better place, and they know that palestinians generally do not support hamas. and i have helped people more to the center and right learn more about all of that and more. i have taught people what judaism is, what it is to me, and what it is to people who are very different to me. i've taught them how someone can be secular, atheist, and still very much jewish. i've taught them about where those guys in funny hats fit into the continuum between the ba'al shem tov and me, how we are alike and how we are different - how we have been forced to change in different ways, to adapt. i've taught them about the history of zionist movements, about jewish anarchists and socialists, about pogroms, about talmud, about tu b'shvat. people who believed, before me, that eretz yisrael was an empty wasteland before the first zionist settlers arrived to bring it to life, and people who believed that it was a thriving arab community that faced a military invasion before the state of israel was established, both have a bit more perspective on a very complicated history, because of me. because i exist, because i will not touch money on shabbos, because i will not shut my mouth, because i wear my beard and my payos and i cover my head, because i am not ashamed of who i am, because i have taken the time to be educated and to unapologetically assist in the education of others, people in my small town in the pacific northwest know about israel as a real place, and jews as a real people - whether or not we live there, and in all our many, many complex and nuanced perspectives on it.

i don't mean to tokenize yourself or reduce yourself to being a public service. but i do mean to push back when you hear someone discussing an even they've clearly only heard on very limited perspective on. i do mean that people who know they have at least one jewish friend (or acquaintance/community member/coworker/whatever) are more likely to notice, more likely to think critically, when things involving jews, or involving israel, are brought up. and to be clear: if you do this, you have to get really good at not telling people they're wrong or stupid, because people will shut down if you do that. you have to learn how to show people that their perspective is lacking without just telling them that they're ignorant. no one wants to listen to someone who's just telling them that they're a dumber, worse version of themselves than they realised. get really comfortable with asking people where they learned something or what they've been taught in the past, and then with how to break down and reconstruct from there, if necessary. honestly, once people feel safe to not know things around you, it gets much easier for you both to simply fill in the gaps.

and i guess, what i mean is that every single day that a goy learns what tikkun olam is and what it means to jews, that that does a very real bit of the work of tikkun olam, because you have helped create a goy who knows something about jews, and what they know now is that our culture teaches us that the world is beautiful and it is broken and it is our sacred duty to help mend it.

so, to answer your question: that's what it takes. it takes remembering that the world is made up of so many little pieces, so many souls, so many fractured little shards that were once contained within spheres that once emanated from the same great oneness - and it takes reminding other individual little shards that they are also a part of the same thing as you, that you come from the same place they do... and that your paths to and from that great oneness are different, and none of them less beautiful than any other.

you can try and fail forever to mend the whole world in one day, and never make any real progress, and it will crush your soul into an even finer powder as you do.

there will always be some people do not care about us because they hate us, or at least, they believe that they do because they have been taught to, but i do not believe they will ever be the majority. most goyim do not care so much about us, simply because they haven't realised that they could love us, because they haven't gotten to know us, because they don't even know how much they would like to. if we are going to reach those goyim before the hateful ones do, we just have to keep at it.

and so long as we do not, in fact, control the media, i'd say we have a lot more chance of changing things, changing how and if people see us, by simply refusing to get out of their line of sight. it is much, much easier to hate or to hurt someone you can't see and don't know. stay where they can see us. become a welcome sight. teach them how to see what we see. the world is not illuminated by guarding of the flame, but rather by the kindling of others from it.

be light. share light. don't ever buy into the isolating darkness and its insistence that we are alone in a silent and unfeeling world, because we are not, and that only benefits those who would seek to destroy us. we are not alone, and we do not have to be alone. the universe is not doomed to a shattered eternity.

(and as for your grief and your anger? direct that at the people who benefit from all of us little people remaining ignorant of each other, remaining divided. goodness knows, there are certainly plenty of them. and i, for my own little part, do not intend to give them the satisfaction.)

Jewish hostages emerge from 16 months of underground captivity emaciated, broken and bewildered, looking for all the world like concentration camp survivors, and the world is silent.

Returned female hostages give graphic and horrifying accounts of sexual assault and torture, and the world is silent.

Antisemitic abuse and hate crime has skyrocketed, Jews are traumatised and terrified and in deep pain, that is celebrated and laughed at, and the world is silent.

THE WORLD IS SILENT.

WHAT WILL IT ACTUALLY TAKE FOR PEOPLE TO GIVE A SHIT??

I just don’t understand. I never will.

[sunrisecaminus]

Hi I hope you having a wonderful day

May I request some sfw optimus x reader?

Message - I am having a great day actually! Also of course! Got to love the Prime once in a great while! I didn't know what to put as a story so I just made the human have a job.

Optimus x Mechanic Reader SFW

Summary - Optimus having a cute hang out at the human's store!

Warning - Very adorable!

Type of fic - Fluff

You have never had to fix so many vehicles before, until you met the Autobots. You never wanted to tell them, but Cybertronian anatomy was actually easy to learn to help Ratchet with the minor injuries these idiots get from missions. You own your very own Mechanic shop and the bots just make it less boring when they come to visit. Optimus was very respectful to you and rarely visits, but after some deep discussions you both have with each other, he will come by to see you a lot more now a days.

Right now you are giving an oil change for someone when you see from the corner of your eye the red, white and blue truck pulling up. The smile that grew on your face said it all and you finished the guys truck, got paid, and let him leave your garage. Walking outside with your o/c overalls (overall color), you pat the front of the hood and greet your big truck friend. "Hi big guy! What you in for?" You wait patiently as he transforms and looks around. "Hello y/n. I came to drop off some parts for your work. Agent Fowler said it's for Bumblebee when he comes in."

You have lifted so much weight off Ratchet's back by giving the mechs their own check ups and basic plating care routines. You have noticed that you haven't given Optimus a full check yet, but you figured it was because the man was very private about his body. You heard from a lot of his friends that he rarely likes to be touched and they blame it on him being a Prime. It didn't matter to you though, you just wanted him to feel comfortable around his new environments and relax. "Well why don't you come in? I closed for the night so no one is coming around anytime soon." Your shop close really late and it's in the middle of no where. Just outside of Jasper was just your mechanic shop, a mini gas station, and the desert. You liked how peaceful it was here, and the autobot base is actually close by, so anytime the kids need a place to stay they could always come to you for a sleep over. You lived in the back of your shop, but you didn't mind. It was like a cozy apartment inside your home with a tv, kitchen, bedroom, and your own bathroom so you didn't need to use the shops public restroom. It wasn't much, but the quiet nature of it made it feel like a luxury to you. Anyway Optimus walks over and sits just outside of the garage as you pull up a chair and grab your microwaved dinner. "So, any new stories you need to tell me? How are the kids?"

You both talk for what seemed like hours. It was so nice to get to be with him again, but what you didn't know is he felt the same way about you. You listened to everything he said and gave such good advice. What he loved most about humans was their empathy, and you had a lot of it. You played a lot of music with your vintage record player and he loved to just close his eyes and listen to the sweet music…made him forget about the war for a few hours. You NEVER talked about the war with him, unless he talked about it first. Being the person you were, you never wanted to talk to someone about deep things unless they initiated it first, a lot of people find dark topics to be uncomfortable to talk about and you knew Optimus was an awkward person. "Hey, thanks for the shipment. Speaking of, I have some new tires for you if you ever wanted to get some new ones yourself. Treat yourself and get something good once in a while to make you feel better." You eat your food, waiting for an answer as he got quiet to think about it. "I don't want to bother you about it y/n. It's very late." He spoke to you like he was such a nuisance. You wanted to change that ever since this man met you. Standing up, you grab your tool box and throw your empty container into the trash. "Transform and come on in, I can hook you up with some good classic black tires! Nothing flashy I promise."

He obeyed and did just that, transforming, and driving inside your garage. He has never done this before, so he may be a little nervous doing this with a human mechanic. It's not that he didn't trust you personally, he was just worried a human wouldn't know how to change Cybertronian tires. What Optimus didn't know, was that you have been taking classes from Ratchet and reading books in translation to help yourself understand how to do everything. You already practice changing tired on Bumblebee and Arcee, so this was going to be a piece of cake for you. Opening the tool box you walk over and hook him onto the big machine. He didn't know what it was for at first until his entire body gets lifted a few feet off the ground. "Are you sure this will hold?" You chuckle from how anxious he was and pat his bumper. "You'll be fine I promise, Fowler hooked me up with some expensive tech so this baby can hold a plane." You put on gloves and start to get to work.

After about two hours, you clean off the last tire and lower him to the ground. He was a big mech so you made sure you lowered him slowly and you see the tires pressing against the shops floors. "Aaaaaand we are done! Now I already sprayed them and put some air in them so you won't have to come back for another check up in-" You interrupt yourself when you heard nothing coming out of him. You could sense that he wasn't listening so you press your hand on his door. "Hey, you ok? Optimus?" That was when you heard a soft noise coming out of his engine…he was asleep. You smiled from the cute moment that is happening right now and you grab a tarp from the back. It was a nice giant blue tarp that is used to protect vehicles from weather conditions as you draped it over his entire body. Going inside the kitchen, you make yourself a cup of hot chocolate as you go back outside into the garage to sit yourself by the desk you have. You take a sip of the mug and place it on the table, grabbing a pen to start drawing for your next blueprint idea. You look back at the sleeping prime that was in your garage. "Sweet dreams Optimus…love you." You go back to work as what you don't see is him flustered on the inside. He woke up when you gave him the blanket…and now he plans to visit you everyday from now on.

[daisy-01-blog]

Stupidly beautiful model got fucked by another beautiful model (Model! Gojo x fem! model reader)

A/N: was thinking of using porn video title as the title but yea…it doesn’t work. Light angst and ended with smut LMAO. Subby Gojo

You’re a famous model known globally, everyone adores you and everyone wants you. Your face is on the magazine, on the banner, literally anywhere. You know that, and you flaunt it. After all, you're gorgeous and rich. 

There’s someone who didn’t appreciate all that, Gojo Satoru. 

It’s not a surprise he becomes a model, he’s gorgeous-with his striking blue eyes and white hair. People adore him. 

You too, you try your best to take his attention-yet he ignored it all the way. 

You two are usually paired with each other, and many people ship you-you’re afraid what they want won’t come true. 

You’re not a player, you had some lovers in the past-but there isn’t any info about Gojo’s dating life. People said he hasn’t dated anyone at all. 

You tried to ask him to hangout after the session ended, and he always refused. And you can’t force him. You still have (some) dignity after all. 

One day, you bought a coffee that you knew he’d like-and you paused in your tracks. You saw him conversing with a beautiful person. 

You’re more beautiful than her of course, but that’s not the point. He’s laughing and smiling, and you never saw him laughing and smiling with you. 

You turned around, sighing. Goodbye, Gojo Satoru. 

*** 

It’s the next day, and you talked to him. He’s surprised you didn’t bring anything-you usually did, to bribe him into loving you. 

“I’ll give up on you” you mutter. 

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, you must be joking. It has been months since you chased him. There’s no way you’ll be giving up now. 

“Sure” he shrugged, that’s all that he said.

You gritted your teeth, so it doesn’t even affect him. The shooting started and end in a breeze, you just wanna go home.

***

“I wanna stop modeling along with Gojo,” you told your manager. 

She raised her brows “you sure? you two have collected tractions all these years” 

You nodded “I wanna try something new” you muttered. She nods “suit yourself” 

Gojo didn’t know what to do with what happened, his manager told him you wouldn’t want to model with him anymore. 

He’s surprised, but he said nothing about it. After all, he felt nothing. Right? 

*** 

A week has passed and he becomes more grumpy, why does it matter to him now that you model with someone else? he didn’t even like you in that way. This shouldn’t even make any sense. 

And when he walks by and saw you on a cafe, laughing and talking with a guy you don’t recognize-he pulls you out there. 

“What!” you said “I’m in the middle of a date” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

You look nice, he noticed. A purple dress and a necklace. He stares at you “why did you leave me?” he said. 

“What?” you said, confused. 

“Why did you just-stop bothering me?” he mutters. 

You huff “isn’t this what you want?” 

“No” he said “I like you” 

You frown “and I’m in the middle of a date, so go away” you said to him. 

He kisses your hand “please” 

***

No one knows how you two get into this, but you ended up riding him on his bed. He shudders in pleasure as the bed creaks. You moan in pleasure. 

“Am sorry” he whines “please don’t leave me-ha” he moans “again” he whines. 

“Only if you’re a good boy” you moan as you feel his huge veiny cock throbbing inside your walls. 

He shudders “don’t stop” he moans as you did. You ride him fast as he moans in pleasure, shaking and panting. 

“Please” he whines “wanna cum” 

You shudder as you two cummed. But he isn’t satisfied. 

He moans in pleasure as he lets you suckle his cock, shaking and panting as you gag on his huge cock. 

He shakes his hips “so good” he whines needily, shaking his hips over and over. 

“Mmmh…” you drool as you kiss his cock. 

“I love you” he mewls “I love you…please don’t stop” 

You swallow his cum. 

“One more?” he whines. 

You grin “sure”

[ben-talks-art]

Why is Desscaras so likable? 🤔

So something has been on my mind for a while now...

There's this series called "Ichi the Witch" that has been growing in popularity lately and among the cast of characters there's Desscaras, a powerful mage who's considered like a superstar among the witches for how good she is at her job, and Desscaras herself is aware of that and always takes as many chances as she can to be smug about it...

But for some reason it never feels annoying when she does it, and I'm very intrigued as to why that is.

Desscaras is basically a fusion of Bulma and Piccolo from Dragon Ball.

Much like Bulma, she's a young and bratty genius who gets stuck with this wild young boy and now has to work with him while going on crazy adventures while doing her best to keep him in check.

But she's also like Piccolo in the sense that she can also be very wise, observant, and calm when the situation calls for it and capable of taking advantage of what she knows and what she can do to come up with different solutions for different problems.

I kept wondering why her smug attitude never annoyed me like it usually tends to when it comes to other "full-of-themselves" types of characters.

Characters like Vegetta or Bakugou who because they're so strong, let it get to their heads and often end up behaving like total jerks in the earlier parts of their story arcs.

I feel like the reason it never bothered me with Desscaras is because, unlike these two, you never get a sense she's trying to prove something.

With Bakugou and Vegetta, you could always tell they were trying to make people understand they were hot stuff, to make it clear that they were the best, to convince others as much as they try to convince themselves to believe in their own hype.

It always had a hint of insecurity as if they needed people to believe in them because deep down, they didn't believe in themselves.

But you don't really get that from Desscaras.

It always felt like she couldn't care less what people think of her. She doesn't need me, you, or anyone to buy into her hype, because she already buys it, and that's all she needs.

The reason her smugness isn't annoying is because you get the sense she's doing it not because she has something to prove but because that's just how she sees herself.

She's likable because you can feel how much she loves herself and who she is...

And in a modern world where everyone is constantly trying to compare themselves to someone else in order to measure how happy or how successful they are, seeing someone who's just already happy with who she is is a very refreshing experience.

I saw some people often comparing her to Gojo, and I can totally see why.

They both are super strong characters who are so comfortably happy with who they are that they allow themselves to act a bit immature and goofy every now and then because they have enough trust in their own character and in their own strength to back it up.

Some sort of... "I'm strong and wise enough to allow myself to be silly" kind of thing if you will.

And that's the key word, "comfortable."

We have several examples of characters who are confident in their own strength, but who you can still feel a sense of pressure from.

Like, they're so strong so they need to set an example, they need to be a role model, they need to make people feel safe, they need to live up to the image that's expected from them.

But Desscaras doesn't care about any of that. She doesn't try to be a role model or anything, she's just living her life the way she's most comfortable with.

The fact that she's one of the strongest doesn't get in the way of how she presents herself to others, her personality does.

The best way I can describe Desscaras is an ideal combination of power + confidence + and comfortableness.

She kinda feels like the perfect embodiment of strength. Characters in stories who are often labeled as "the strongest" or "the most powerful" are often depicted like people who let the power get to their heads and thus end up becoming huge jerks because of it, or they are so confident in their strength that they start to treat things with indifference because they know they can survive anything, or they feel so responsible for the power they carry that they became overly cold and serious about it.

There are several depictions of strength but we don't often get one that manages to balance it out this level of confidence, maturity, and comfort with one self.

You usually tend to feel like one element or two is missing to create something really unique, and Desscaras feels like that something unique where every element is just at the right place.

She feels like a very refreshing take on "The strongest" trope, a comfortable depiction of strength, and I'm excited to see where we go with her. 😊

[yourabsolutemother]

At sundown Chapter 3

!!MDNI!!

Previous Chapter Here

Poly!141 x reader (omegaverse)

===

A/N: I know this took so long guys, I'm sorry lol. I busted out the rest of chapter two in one night, it was kinda crazy. It was also way longer than I had originally planned, but who's complaining? Let me know if Johnny’s accent is too hard to read, sometimes this translator does some crazy things. This one’s kinda all over the place but it’s kinda for a reason. Last thing! Let me know if you like the beginning of this, I kinda really hate it but I didn’t know what else to do

CW: Military inaccuracy, accent inaccuracy, possible lore inaccuracy, kitchen working inaccuracy, typical a/b/o sexism and classism, cursing, slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as they/them but is afab, but reader is referred to as a woman sometimes (I try my best to make it gender neutral but I’m not the brightest), everyone is kinda being unfaithful, cursing, Simon is mean ya know, slight stalking, a man being a creep, yelling/arguing, reader kinda has a panic attack, yelling

Chapter overview: Soap does some questionable things at the grocery store. Ghost and Price are grumpy

WC: 11.3k

===

Another new day in this hellhole you call a job. They have you running around like you’re the only one who knows what's going on. Sometimes you feel like you are the only one who knows what they’re doing, only to have some random person that’s never bothered to introduce themselves to you mansplain how to use a garbage can. Your boss even went as far as to make you drive an hour out of town to buy bulk ingredients, stating they needed too many things to be open. Of course you were the one they sent, instead of the person who’s literal job description is just that. And of course when you got back, it was your fault that the restaurant didn’t have enough servers. ‘Shouldn’t have taken so long’ was their excuse when you pointed out it was in fact their fault, not yours. You can wrap your brain around how people can be so ignorant and selfish. It feels like there are way more bad people in the world than there are good. It makes you wonder how much more the world could take.

By the end of the day, you’ve been cursed out by three tables, crayons thrown into your lower cut shirt by gross 11 year old boys whose moms have never taught them anything valuable a day in their life, belittled and more. You have serviced enough tables to make at least $300, but you’ve only made $150. Nobody is on your side today, the universe isn’t on your side today. But when is it ever? You’ve disappeared into the freezer to cry your eyes out too many times today to count. You know your manager will go through the cameras at the end of the day, which he does just to point things out about you, and you are going to get a call when you get home. Which you have told them repeatedly not to do, you don’t want to be bothered by work when you aren’t even there. Of course, they ignore this and constantly call and text you. One time, they threatened to fire you if you didn’t answer their calls, after one night when they couldn't find something and they deemed you the only person who knew where it was. You didn’t even know where it was.

Right now, you are putting the ticket in for your last table when a new coworker of yours comes over and leans against the beam that is near the computer. “Saw you running around like crazy today.” Is all that he says, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scan your body up and down, finally landing on your face. His eyes had lingered at your tits for a bit longer than you’d like and you remind yourself to never wear a shirt like this to work again. His British voice echos in your head like it is empty, your brain trying to find the right words to say. What would agitate him the least. He is met with your downturned eyes as you turn your head towards him. The scent of an alpha hits you immediately and you’re left frozen for a moment. You can’t just ignore an alpha.

Your hands start to shake as you pull the customer receipt out of the printer, grabbing a checkbook from the box right next to you. You let out an awkward laugh as you nod your head, sliding the receipt into the pocket on the inside. “Yeah, Jared needed some things done ASAP and I was the only one available.” You explain, looking at the small passage between this random coworker and where you need to go. “My name is Tyler by the woy.” He says, his tone sounding rather thirsty. You aren’t stupid, you know what he wants from you and you want nothing to do with it. Especially from an alpha.

You stiffly nod and start to move towards the small gap next to him, watching as he unfolds his arms. Your heart clenches in your chest as he reaches for you and firmly grips your shoulders, it's obvious he didn’t mean to grab you so hard from the way he loosens his grip and kinda pats where he grabbed. “You can’t just walk away without telling me your name.” He points out, trying to hide his aggression under a facade of a ‘nice guy’. You can see through his fake smile, through the facade he puts on. You know his ploy all too well and you aren’t about to fall for it. Be nice to the girl, make her fall for them, then reveal what a heart crushing, soul changing piece of shit they are. Not on your watch, at least as much as you could help it.

Despite how confident you are in your own head, on the outside you look like a mess. You are hunched over with your checkbook in hand, trying hard not to look at the alpha who is way too close for comfort. “Come on, Hun. Such a pretty little omega like ye must have a beautiful name.” He presses further, ignoring the quiet whimper that manages to escape your mouth. He can feel the fear radiating off of you and it intrigues him, his pupils dilate with interest.

“Omega!” Jared shouts from his office at the very back of the kitchen, right next to the back door. He loves to slip in and out of the building without telling anybody what's going on. It doesn’t matter too much when he’s coming in without notice, all we can do is accept the rest of the shift is going to be shit and get on with our lives. But when he leaves without telling anyone that he’s leaving, it can majorly fuck the place up and it has multiple times in the past. On one occasion, he knew someone from corporate was coming in to pose as a customer, but assumed at six o’clock that he ‘wasn't going to show up’. He left and the guy he was supposed to be waiting on showed up in the last hour our dinner courses were served in. We went to go find him only to find out that he wasn’t even there anymore. Corporate was pissed and took points off of whatever tracking list they have for their franchisee owners. It doesn’t stop him from continuing to do it.

You have never felt more relieved to hear Jared’s voice in your life. Your head perks up, looking over the shoulder of your new coworker in the direction of Jared's office. You nervously glance between there and the alpha that is looking at you expectantly while stammering. “I gotta go.” Quickly squeezing between him and the wall to get to Jared, checkbooks still in hand. You can feel the kitchen workers and Tyler's eyes on you as you scurry hurriedly to the back of the restaurant. “Yes, sir! I’m coming.” You can feel the anger coming from behind you, coming from the alpha that you’ve caught the attention of unknowingly.

Jared’s office is tiny, not meant for someone to be in there for very long enough. It looks like a big closet with a desk to the right of the door, three filing cabinets completely lining the back wall. Outside of the office, if you’re standing facing the office, the door to the back of the restaurant is to the left. Jared is a very large, very intimidating alpha. He is the only one that you ever really talk to, since you have to. You kinda just switch off your brain when you are talking to him, retreating into your mind to a time when you were forced to be around them for hours on end.

“Now tell me why in the hell you are spending all this time in the kitchen fucking checking out tickets, lollygagging around while these people are waiting!?” Jared’s loud and booming voice invades your ears and makes you wince, your head immediately lowering in a sign of submission. The feeling of relief you felt only moments ago from being pulled away from Tyler was quickly sucked from your body. “What- no of course not, sir.” You stammer out. It’s like a flip gets switched when you’re in arguments, you can’t seem to formulate the correct words to help your case. It is very rare that you are able to get them to start to believe you, but you also fold when they start to interrogate you. It just makes you so nervous that you can’t think straight and your brain gets all scrambled.

“Then why have you been back here for three minutes doing one thing!? Huh!?” He screams at you as you start to take sharp intakes of air. You are trying not to burst out into tears as he stands up and steps towards the edge of his desk. You are used to crying in front of him, embarrassingly so. Everyone here tends to make jokes about it ‘behind your back’ while literally right behind your back. “It’s a privilege for you to work here.” He reminds you, stalking toward you. Your brain goes empty and all you can think about is keeping yourself safe from the angry looking alpha that is coming right towards you. “Look around!” He barks, speaking rhetorically. “There isn' a single omega tha' works for me, you are the only one. You are so easily replaceable I won' even thinky twice abou' i'.” He growls as he towers over your shaking form.

You are holding the checkbook close to your chest, the checkbook you have yet to bring to the customer, looking up at as tears start to roll down your cheeks You are terrified that he is going to lunge at you and hurt you, but you know that you’re hopefully somewhat safe since there is a camera pointing right at the doorway you’re standing in. All you can do is nod, your wide eyes staring up at Jared as he continues to belittle you. Talking about how quickly he could fire you and all the things you have already done that he almost fired you for. He doesn’t hold back on his insults either, he cuts deep and on purpose too. He never once acknowledges the fact that you did things that aren’t on your job description for free today and on most days, but you aren’t about to bring that up to an alpha that is screaming in your face.

“now qui' your fuckin’ crying and ge' back ou' there!” He shouts, pointing over your shoulder towards the dining room. “And if i ge' a single complain' tha' you are crying, you’re fired!” He shouts again as you turn and scurry away from his office. You struggle to keep your emotions in check as you wipe your face of tears and prepare yourself for the trip to your table. You speed walk to the doors of the kitchen, with your head low so the kitchen staff can’t see the tears that they know are running down your cheeks. You take a deep breath once you are there and push through the door, your face immediately brightening up.

You spend the next three hours doing the most random tasks that you could ever think of, at Jared’s request of course. He didn’t stop the hosts from sitting people in your section while you are doing these things, in fact it feels like he told them to give you more. When you look around you can see that there are empty tables in other sections for way longer than they should be open. While in your section, a table would leave and it was like the busboy was waiting for them to leave, then a host would fill the table not even a minute later. You are in a constant battle between greeting customers and giving their checks, making your brain scramble from the switching. On top of that you have the weird ass requests that Jared is assigning you one after another.

Instead of hanging out in the kitchen like you normally would have when you have some downtime, you go to your jacket and get the emergency stash of cigarettes that you save specially for days like this one. Where you can’t see an end to your suffering. You grab your lighter as well and make your way to the back door, hoping Jared isn’t in his office so that he wouldn’t see you. It’s not like he is going to stop you from going on a smoke break. You hope. Thankfully you are able to get past the office and out the backdoor without any commotion from Jared, the cold air biting at your cheeks. It is cold outside, but you don't want to bother putting on a jacket when you are only going to be out here for a few moments. Hopefully the cold air will refresh your brain and the rest of your shift won't be as miserable. Unlikely. You put the cigarette in your mouth and hold the lighter up to the stick, watching and inhaling as the paper starts to burn. You’re able to put the lighter back in your pocket and take a drag before you hear the door open and a voice speak to you.

“Pretty omega like you shouldn’t be smoking, gonna ruin your pretty body.” The creep Tyler speaks out, his breath fogging in the air. You stop yourself from scoffing and just shrug, not even bothering to look at him. Your brain is far too overworked to even pretend to like someone right now. Shock fills your body when you feel Tylers fingers grasp the cigarette and take it from between your lips. You slowly turn your head to look at him, your hand still up like you are holding the cigarette and your eyes filled with a fiery anger. Tyler doesn’t seem to notice the anger, or maybe doesn’t care, he just smirks at you. Your eyes follow the cigarette as he drops it to the ground and snuffs it with his foot. “Just lookin’ out for you, hun. I’m sure you understand, it's my place as an alpha. Just like it's your place as an omega to obey and do as you're told.” He mansplains away while you play with the lighter in your pocket, wishing you could do something to him. He continues to talk to you, but you aren’t listening. You’re looking at his face, almost through your eyelashes, with the most uninterested look on your face.

“Look, babe.” The nickname slipped off his lips like nails on a chalkboard, making you want to immediately want to sock him in the face. “I know that you are mad at me for putting out your cig, but you gotta understand-” You cut him off with a hand to the face as he tries to reach for a piece of your hair. “I completely understand, there is no reason to speak to me like I am a child. Thank you very much.” You tell him, walking in front of him to go back inside when he grabs your wrist. “I don’t think that’s any way that you should be talking to an alpha, Hun.” He says through clenched teeth, trying to keep a charming smile on his face so that you don’t see him for who he actually is. “I mean, some of these alphas will seriously reprimand you for something like tha’.” He tells you as his grip slightly loosens up when he realizes how aggressive the grab may have seemed. He has to make sure he holds up this fake personality so he can lure you in, he doesn’t know you know. You can tell that when he says ‘some alphas’ he really means himself.

You don’t know what comes through you, the way that he has treated you, the first time ever meeting this man, and he has the audacity to act this way. It has you seeing red. You rip your arm out of his grip and walk away back inside. You’d rather not have a smoke break then be around this douche. “I have a pack.” You lie over your shoulder, glaring at him as the door opens and you step inside. The anger is deep in your chest, threatening to bubble out like it is a volcano waiting to erupt. You have to take deep breaths so that you don’t flip out.

As soon as the door closes behind you, the confidence stays outside apparently, because you can feel your chest tightening. You cover your mouth with a shaky hand and hold the spot he grabbed with your other. It was the first time in a long time that an alpha put their hands on you. You felt the aggression in his grab and then the way that his fingers loosened once he realized he was going to give himself away. Your moment is cut short by a noise coming from Jared’s office and not wanting anymore trouble with any alpha’s today, you are quick to scurry to the handwashing sinks. You wash your hands and make your way to your purse so you can spray yourself with perfume. You don’t want to go back to the dining room smelling like smoke. Luckily the spot they make you put your stuff is far enough away from the kitchen that you don’t have to worry about contamination. They probably planned it that way.

You take a moment to breathe before you are forced back into the muskiness of the restaurant. Even when alpha’s wore scent blockers, there was still this mucky scent. You find it repulsive and have to hold back your gags sometimes with how bad it is. You force a fake smile on your face and exit the kitchen, walking around your large section to see if anyone needs anything, to catch up on the lost time during your smoke break.

While you’re at one of the tables, a pack omega looks at your arm and nudges her beta, whispering something into their ear while motioning to your arm. You don’t notice the way the beta’s eyes become worried upon seeing the light redness that is forming on your arm from where Tyler grabbed you. “Hey, darling.” The beta greets you, cutting you off from a conversation with their alpha. Your eyes go to the beta’s, filling with dread as someone cuts off an alpha. “You’re not being..hurt at home, right?” They ask, their fingers brushing over the newly formed patch on your arm that is obviously someone else's doing. You are a little confused why they are so concerned over such a small injury, if you can even call it that, but grateful they were looking out for people. Your eyes go back to the alpha and he’s looking at you like he is waiting for an answer as well, not even bringing up the fact that his beta just interrupted us. It only serves to confuse you more.

The alpha raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘spit it out’, but for once from an alpha, it doesn’t feel mean. The worried look he tries to bury in his eyes is obvious to you, you aren’t used to it from people like him. You stutter for a moment before you take a deep breath and sigh, trying to collect your thoughts. “I ran into one of the shelves in the kitchen and I bruise easily, is all..”  You tell them nervously, not liking the feeling of all three of their eyes on you. It feels like they can see right through your lie. Your eyes cast down, but you can tell they are scanning your face to try and find any reason to not believe you. They stare at you for what felt like two minutes, it is closer to 10 seconds in reality, before the beta sucks on their teeth. “I believe them.” They tell their alpha, sitting back in their seat and taking a sip of their to-go cup you just gave them.

You feel like your face is lighter, like 10,000 pounds had been lifted from your chest as the alpha nods in agreement with his beta. “Okay, we believe you..” He says skeptically, his eyes squinting at you to try and get you to break. But you stay strong and smile warily at him, feeling uncomfortable under an alphas gaze. Your eyes widen when the alpha grunts and rubs his shin, his gaze shooting towards his omega across from him. “'eave her alone , you're scarin' the poor thin’.” Her Geordie accent slipping off her tongue like butter. You can hardly understand her, but her pack seems to have no trouble. The alpha almost pouts and huffs at her. “Just making sure they’re alright.” He grumbles, you can tell he kicks her under the table but much softer.

The beta rolls their eyes at their pack's antics and pulls their card out of their wallet, handing it to you in between two fingers. “Don’t be scared of Jessy.” The beta tells you kindly, their smile radiating as you take their card. “He’s a big teddy bear.” They continue, their eyes going to their alpha who is still ‘arguing’ with the pack omega in a hushed tone. You take that as your cue to leave and weave your way back through the crowd to the kitchen. You pray that Tyler isn’t in there, waiting for you like a creep

Once back in the kitchen, you are lucky to see that Tyler isn’t currently in there. You glance around a few times, as if trying to scope him out like he is hiding somewhere. You aren’t going to take any chances with a guy like him, he gives you the weirdest vibes on top of just being a garbage person. You don’t waste anymore time and check the table out, you feel like you’re moving faster than you ever have before when checking out a table. The idea that Tyler can come in here at any moment and try something with you again, and no one would care or stop him, is plaguing your mind. You can’t stop thinking about all the different ways that things can go wrong with a guy like him. He can end up doing horrible things to you and there is nothing you can do to stop him.

You scramble out of the kitchen as soon as you are done, booking it to the table, whose card and check you have. You have to angle your body to the side to fit through a few gaps between people, holding the checkbook close to your chest so no one can try to take it from you. Which has happened in the past, their whole meal came out of your paycheck along with the fee for having to get a new card. But luckily you get to their table without any problems. Setting the book down on the table you smile, a little warrily, at the alpha at the table. “I hope that you and the rest of your pack have a good day.” You say softly, hoping the others don’t take it as you trying to flirt with their alpha. That is the last thing you want from them.

The alpha looks at the check and then back at you with a confused look on his face, making your chest tighten for the hundredth time today. “Who gave you their card?” He asks, his face dropping into a more serious look, his voice dropping as well. You freeze, your mouth opening and closing almost like a fish as you try to fight through the fear that came along with seeing the sudden change in his demeanor. “Um, your beta did, sir..” You reply, your voice meek. You’re scared that the alpha is going to lash out in front of you, start yelling at his beta for paying for the meal without his knowledge. Jessy’s eyes shift to his beta, his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He just stares at him like that for a few seconds, glaring into his soul before his face lifts a little. “How many times have I told you, Malakia. I pay for everything and you guys just sit back and be pretty.” He complains, reaching over and flicking his beta on the arm. “How do you even have money in your card?” He asks, his eyes squinting in suspicion.

You take a sharp breath in and force a smile on your face as you try and calm your nerves. “Well, I hope you three have a great rest of your day.” You say, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you bid them farewell with a small nod of your head. You turn and walk briskly through the crowd, not wanting to intrude in their conversation about their finances. It was always the worst when couples or packs would talk about personal things in front of you. It happens why more than you were comfortable with. People even go as far as to talk about their sex life in front of you. Sometimes it feels like they're doing it just to make you uncomfortable.

You push through the swinging doors of the kitchen and are met by Tyler grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, darlin’” He greets you, stepping out of your way only to redirect his path to follow you. Your head lowers a little bit and you side eye him a bit, trying to put off the most uninterested vibe you can muster. You are wearing scent blockers so he can’t smell the souring of your scent, but you can feel it. Your chest always feels tighter and it feels like you are breathing smoke, thick air that makes your throat burn somehow. “It’s the end of my shift and I don’t have any more tables, I can’t stay to help you with anything if that's what you’re wondering.” You dismiss him entirely, your eyes watching in front of you now as you make your way to the lockers. “Actually, Jared wanted me to let you know that you need to stay for a double.” He says, his tone sounding overly remorseful, like he is actually mocking you. You can’t see his face, but you know that he has a dumb smirk on his face, watching as the horror dawns on your face.

Your head snaps towards him and you make eye contact before you have to look away, you ignore how you caught a glimpse of his smirk falling when you looked at him. “I already worked my double this week.” You explain to Tyler, your voice sounding a little frustrated. “I’m already working overtime, I don’t want any more hours.” You sigh out, your shoulders slouching in defeat. “Well, someone had to go home because they had a headache. We need someone to cover their spot.” He tells you, not budging on the subject. You don’t understand how someone who was so new already had so much more power and authority over you. “Who left?” You ask quickly, already knowing Jared screwed you over on purpose. You are his least paid employee, he loves sending people home and making you stay later so he doesn’t have to pay as much. “Ace.” He tells you. “It had to have been going on for an hour, he had to go home.”

You have to hold back a laugh of disbelief, nodding your head. Ace is a beta, of course he is allowed to go home like that. They would have killed you if it had been you that asked to go home because of a headache. “Whatever.” You mumble out as you turn on your heel and head to the host station to figure out what section is yours now. Tyler is left smirking at your displeasure, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. It is like it is burning holes in your skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're practically in tears by the time that you get to your car, your shoulders are raised and your head is lowered so you can warm your cheeks with your jacket and scarf. You are quick to unlock your car because you had rushed out of the building to avoid Tyler being able to follow you. He unfortunately was also working a double tonight so I couldn’t get away from him, he was basically your shadow the whole night, following you around like a lost puppy at any chance he had. Expect it wasn’t cute and he was being so passively rude the entire time. You wanted to strangle him by the end of the shift, but that would get you fired and also arrested, so you resisted. As you’re getting in your car, you hear his grating voice from across the parking lot. He is just coming out of the building and he was quick to find you. “Hey! I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye! You ran off before I could say anything!” He is shouting from across the parking lot.

You’re glad that you had hair over your ears so later you can blame you ignoring him on the fact that you had earbuds in and couldn’t hear him. You quickly get in your car and sling your bag into the passenger seat of your car before you back out of the parking spot. He’s only halfway to your car before you start driving towards the exit, you’re glad because you wouldn’t put it past him to jump in front of your car to stop you from leaving. Luckily he doesn't have the space and just stands there staring at your car as you drive away, an almost shocked look on his face. You laugh at him and turn onto the road, driving towards home.

You’re almost relaxed as you’re driving home, as relaxed as an unmated omega could be in a world where they can hardly survive. But the feeling quickly leaves when your eyes spot the sign for the grocery store that you pass everyday. You groan out and hit your back on the seat a couple times before you change lanes to get into the turning lane for the grocery store. You totally forgot that you need to buy some things and you can’t put them off any longer, so you reluctantly find a parking spot and park your car.

You’re parked next to a car that has someone in it still, so you keep your eyes down as you get out of your car and walk in front of it since it's been backed into the parking spot. You can tell that the person inside the car looks up at you and watches you pass in front of their car, but you don’t think much of it. You would have done the same thing if someone had walked in front of your car. You don’t look up from the ground until you are inside of the store, in the cart lobby. It’s still cold in here despite the hot air that you can feel blowing from the vents. You always wondered how the workers that got them from the parking lot got them into the building. With how long they make the cart trains, it seems impossible.

You don’t realize that the person in the car you just passed was actually your neighbor, and he was now following you. Soap’s eyes are on you as he gets out of his car, walking a little far behind you so that you don’t think that someones following you. He’s not following you, he’s just… making sure you’re safe, making sure that you’re taken care of. He doesn’t want anything to happen to an unattended omega, he’d do it for anyone. He wouldn’t and he knows that, but he doesn’t want to feel like a freak as he watches you set your bag in the small cart you grab and make your way inside. Soap enters the lobby not too long after you did, you’re now inside of the store, and he completely ignores the cart that he needs to grab. He’s supposed to be getting groceries for the pack for the week and he’s not doing a very good job so far at doing that.

He follows you into the produce section, which is where you enter the grocery store. He watches you as you go over to the fruit section and start looking at the veggies on the shelves. You have to stand on your toes to look at the top shelves on the produce section, as it is just out of your eye sight. He pretends to look at the lettuce on the opposite side of the small section of the produce, angling his body so that he can easily see you without looking like he is actually looking at you. He wishes that he can go up to you, take your cart and do all the shopping for you. So that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you are so obviously tired.

Soap’s eyes soften as he watches you bow your head and quiver as a yawn rips through you, forcing its way out of your body. He usually thinks that people are unattractive when they yawn, but you look so cute when you do it. The way that you face scrunches up and the way that you can’t stop your body from shaking because of your yawn. He has to force himself to look away before someone, or you, catches him staring so intensely. He shakes his head and walks around to the middle isles, of course picking the one that is closest to where you are standing.

Soap can’t help but feel guilty as he goes through the store, following you from a distance so that you don’t get suspicious that he is following you. He watches as your hair slides down your shoulder, your arm reaching up to grab a bell pepper on the shelves. The way that your hand wrapped around the pepper. Because you are an omega, you are smaller than him and it shocks him to see the difference. He zones out while daydreaming about laying in bed, holding you close while he compares hand sizes with you.

He quickly snaps out of it and shakes his head, a cringe creeping onto his face. He can’t remember the last time he thought about something so sappy before. He looks back at where you just were, only to be met with some random man in your place. He freaks out for a moment before he gets a grip on reality. You probably just moved onto another section while he was distracted. After a quick glance around the store that he can see, he sees you at the bakery looking at some of the breads that they had left. This grocery store isn’t the best about freshness, they are too focused on having cheap prices to worry about the freshness of their produce and baked goods. That being known, the store is never really short on bakery items because getting the processed kind is cheaper and it lasts way longer. It just makes you feel special and you get the ‘fancy’ kind sometimes.

Soap walks over to the bakery and looks at the cheese that is on a display across from where you are standing. He stands on the other side so that he can look over the top of the display to look at you, and he can pretend he is looking at the cheese pretty easily. He holds a random piece of cheese in hand so that he isn’t caught following you around the store with nothing in his hands. He doesn’t know what kind of cheese he is holding, like it matters. All that matters to him at this moment is making sure that no alpha would put their filthy hands on what he has subconsciously decided he is going to protect. He can’t help it, your scent has helped him through nights when he is being stubborn and not sleeping with the pack over something silly that is bothering him. You may not know it, but he owes you.

You pick up a loaf of bread, looking at it for a moment before grabbing a bigger loaf. His gaze hardens at the thought of you having a pack. Having someone that won’t be able to protect you as well as can. All Soap can think about is how much better he can take care of you. To him, it seems like the people who he assumes are your packmates don’t take care of you. Anytime that he sees your roommate or Jasmine, he can’t help but scowl. He despises them for what he believes they have done to you. You deserve to be treated like you’re the last omega in the world, like the ground that you walk on is sacred. He’d make you feel like you are everything. Because you are.

He follows you around to the back of the store where the seafood is, and down one of the aisles that's across from the seafood counter. There are long freezers in the middle of the main aisle at the back of the store, Soap stands at the end cap of the one across from the aisle you are on. You’re looking at the chips, looking over the brands on tortilla chips. One hand is twirling a piece of your hair between a few of your fingers, your wrist twisting as you exchange the hair between your fingers. Your lips are formed into a pout as you try to figure out which brand is the best for you to buy.

Soap is ripped from his thoughts by his phone ringing in his pocket, which he ignores. He doesn’t want to look away from you, it is like he is in a trance. You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and slightly bend over to grab a bag of chips, putting it in the cart before moving down the aisle. You walk slowly down, your eyes scanning the shelves for anything that might catch your eye. You tend to forget things if you don’t write them down, but you can never really remember all that you need in order to write it down. Most of the time, you just end up walking through the store and hoping you get everything that you need. It almost always ends with not having half the things you went for, and having tons of things that you’ll use or eat. It is why Jasmine always does the shopping. That and she has more money than you do.

You hear a groan coming from the other end of the aisle, you turn your head and see a familiar face. Your neighbor. But this time, you don’t feel as panicked as before when you’ve noticed him from your driveway. Being this close to him, you can tell that he’s a beta, not an alpha like you had expected. It surprises you, since he is so tall and had the muscles that he did. Most beta’s are like a mid size, not as small as omegas but not as big as alphas. Your neighbor broke this standard way further than you have seen anyone do before. He is a sight to see. You can help but feel an appreciation for betas his size, you hoped he’d make a wonderful beta to a woman alpha. You always love to see it, two people who are not the norm find normalcy in each other's weirdness. That is love to you, it's what it is all about.

On the other end of the aisle, Soap pulls out his ringing phone and looks at the caller I.D. seeing the words ‘captain’ on his screen. He swipes his thumb over the green answer button, bringing the phone up to his ear. “I'm shopping, John. What's botherin ye?” He grumbles into the phone, looking at the chips in front of him before turning his attention back on you. He is annoyed that John is interrupting him when he is so engrossed in watching you. He just needs to make sure that your shopping trip isn’t ruined by anyone, he wants you to have a nice peaceful time. He wants to be there for you, because he cares. “Did you hear me, Johnny?” A gruff voice echoes from the other side of the phone, breaking him away from you once more.

All John gets back from Soap is a distracted sounding “Aye.” followed by the sound of shuffling and a muffled “Excuse me.” of Soap squeezing by an older lady on a motorized shopping cart that almost blocked his path to follow you. Luckily he quickly turned his body and made it through. He keeps his eyes on you, drilling into the back of your head as you make a right turn to go up the next aisle. “Johnny!” John barks from the other side of the phone, annoyance evident in his voice. “Wha' the hell are you doing? Are you even listening to me?” He asks, his tone accusatory towards Soap.

Soap huffs and backs off of you for a moment, remembering quickly that his mate is more important than the omega next door at this moment. He can make sure you’re safe once he is done talking to his alpha. Who is not only the reason he has a job, but is the reason he keeps it. John has single handedly saved Soaps careers more times than he can count at this point. It is honestly laughable. “I’m sorry, i'm here. Whit were ye saying?” He asks, taking a moment to look at the kitchen tools that are at the end of this aisle. He knows Gaz would appreciate new cookware, he always does “Ghos' needs you to come home soon, he doesn' seem very happy with you. Something abou' no' keeping your promises.” John explains to Soap sounding a bit frustrated with him, rightfully so. Soap lets out a long sigh and nods his head, which John obviously isn’t even able to see. “Bastard niver forgets anythin’.” He grumbles under his breath, which John heard and responded to with a low warning growl.

The last few days, John and Ghost have been way stricter than they had ever been. Soap and Gaz are hardly allowed to touch each other without their approval. It bothers the two betas because they know that it isn’t normal behavior for their alphas, but they don’t know what to do to help. They’ve tried everything they can think of at this point, they are out of ideas. Soap tried acting more submissive, but they got upset that he wasn’t acting like himself. Ghost complained that if he wanted someone submissive, he would’ve chosen someone smaller. He feels like submission did Soap's physique wrong, didn’t show off his body the way that Ghost liked, the way that Ghost knows Soap deserves to be seen. Gaz had tried sparring with them, that ended with his face smushed against the floor for an hour while the alphas had their way with him, consensually of course. They didn’t feel any better after any of these attempts, it usually only fueled them to make them more agitated than before. It makes the betas feel as though they aren’t good enough at their roles, that they aren’t worthy mates and aren’t worthy of their title of beta.

“I'm sorry, cap. I'll be home soon. The store is crowdit today.” Soap fixes his tone quickly, making a mental note that he’ll deal with those consequences when they arrive in front of him. “That’s better. Be safe.” John dismisses him, not even waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. Soap is left standing in the kitchenware and baking aisle, looking at stuff that he doesn’t even know what half is. He clears his throat to keep his emotions in check, swallowing a few times to control his tears. He doesn’t feel like he should be so emotional over something like this, he knows they’ll be okay, they always are. But they all know the risks of having a pack with more than one alpha that also doesn’t have an omega. They know that their relationship is fragile and that they have to be careful, they have been careful. Soap just needs things to be better again.

He sighs and makes his way to the opposite side of the aisle, at the back of the store. He grabs a bag of gummy bears off the shelf while he makes his way to find you. While he’s walking, he can’t help but realize how weird he is acting. He kept looking down the aisles like he is looking for someone he knows, someone who actually knows he exists. He remembers the times that you have scurried away from him, looking all scared and panicky. But his heart really clenches when he thinks about his pack. His pack is struggling and here he is getting so distracted by some random omega that he can’t even shop for his family. He groans and shoves the bag of gummy bears on the shelf before booking it out of the store. His pack needs him right now, more than you need his protection. You've done it countless times before, you can do it again.

He serves through the crowd, shoulder checking a few people on the way to the entrance of the store. He can hear the people scoffing and confronting him about running into them. He doesn’t give them the time of day as he books it through the door and towards his car. He practically tore his car out of that parking lot, he wouldn't be surprised if there are black tire marks on the asphalt where he had driven. The whole ride home, he can’t stop wondering if he is a bad mate, oogling over someone that isn’t in his pack and lying about it straight to his mates faces. Someone who he hasn’t even had a conversation with yet. He had spent well over half an hour stalking you through a grocery store under the guise that he was protecting you. While his actions were commendable, they aren’t when you don’t even know the person, especially when that person has run to hide from Soap in the past. He wasn’t painting a pretty picture for himself, but he can’t seem to bring himself to let go of you. The thought alone of leaving you to your own devices and not knowing if you are safe and cared for sent a shiver of unease down his spine, making him cringe and grumble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands are numb by the time that you pull into your driveway, having to go to the grocery store by yourself and then having to drive home took a toll on you. You had almost cried on your way home but had to stop yourself so that you could actually see the road. Jasmine wasn’t able to go grocery shopping for the two of you because she was busy, and your roommate buys his own food. You usually go with Jasmine and have her to lean on, but she couldn’t so you were forced to go by yourself  this time. But after a few deep breaths, you are able to calm yourself enough to get out of the car, making sure to pop the trunk before you close the door.

When you’re rounding the corner to the back of your car, you make eye contact with the man from the store, your neighbor. Since you were able to catch his scent in the store, you knew that he isn’t an alpha. And while this does lower your anxiety around him, he is still a stranger. His eyes look a little tired, glistening around the edges as his eyes scan your face. You can tell that something is bothering him, but it’s not your place and again, he's a stranger. But his tired face turns excited at the sight of your eyes meeting his, starting to make his way over to you. He walks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just been sulking before he saw you.

You return his smile with a cautious wave, holding onto your bag that is slung over your shoulder. “Hi, neighbor!” He greets you cheerfully, stepping a bit into your personal space while he juts his hand out for a handshake. You start to smell freshly cut grass and are confused, no one had cut their grass today, it had been too cold in the past few weeks to even consider it. You’re confused for a moment before you realize that it’s your neighbor. You are closer than you had been in the store and now you are able to get a good read on what he truly smells like. His scent is so comforting due to him being a beta, that your hands start to gain feeling again. You look at his hand and then back at him, like you don’t know what to do, but quickly take his hand for a handshake. “Hello.” Your voice is soft and meek, like you are too afraid to speak too loudly at him.

Soap can’t stop beaming, his smile is bright and goofy. He’s just so excited to be able to formally meet you after spending so much time daydreaming about what you’re like. And after he stalked you through the store. He wasn’t expecting you to be so shy once he’d put himself out there for you, but he finds it adorable. He finds everything about you adorable. From the way you slightly rock on your heels, to the way that your eyes shine in the sunlight when you look at him. He can’t stop staring at your face and memorizing every detail.

 He gets snapped out of his thoughts by you clearing your voice, your eyes shifting to the ground as he reels back into reality. “Neit help wi thae bags?” He asks, already reaching out to grab a bag from your open trunk. You try to protest, but he’s already taking bags into his hands. “You really don’t have to do that.” You tell him, your voice coming out a little rushed as you watch the beta get all of the groceries out of your car. “Really, I can do it.” You rush out as you try and slide your smaller fingers under his fingers to grab the bags from him. He only shushes you and steps back to walk away. You quickly close your trunk and follow him with quick footsteps so you can keep up.

When your fingers touch his, he swears he feels his pupils widen. Your skin is so soft and warm against his calloused skin; your touch is so light despite the fact that you are trying to snatch your grocery bags out of his hand. He tries to compose himself as he brushes past you and towards your front door, he can feel the heat in his body threatening to raise to his skin to make him blush. You’re trailing behind him, a worried look on your face as you try and convince him that you don’t need his help. He doesn’t listen though, he ignores you as he stops in front of your door, waiting for you to open it.

You look worried as you shakily get your house keys out, sliding the key into the slot. Through your worried thoughts on how you are going to get him to not come into your home, he spoke up. “I’m no comin i, stop worryin. A can smell it on ye.” And you can feel your body relax as you open up the door. You’re usually not so quick to trust, but there is something about this beta that is different. He just feels so welcoming and warm, you can’t help but want to get to know him more. But you know that he comes from a unique pack, and you know that his alphas would not be happy if he comes home smelling like the omega next door.

Soap sets the bags just inside the door and watches as you step inside as well. He can tell that your movements are very calculated around him, like you are making room for him instead of making room for the both of you. He can tell that you are fragile, he doesn’t blame you. He can only imagine how hard it must be to live in a world that is rooted against you. You are considered the lowest of the low in society, but not in his eyes. In his eyes, you are perfect. He can tell that you aren’t comfortable in your own skin, but he thinks you were sculpted by the gods, inside and out.

You grab the door and swing it closed a bit, standing just at the opening to say goodbye to your helpful and handsome neighbor. You’d rather close the door in his face and go hide in a closet for two hours, but you have things to do and that would be rude. So you muster up the courage to actually speak to him again. “Thank you for helping me, you really didn’t have to do that.” You tell him softly, having a hard time looking at him in the eyes. You feel your eyes widen as his fingers go under your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. “Come on now, ye don’t have tae hide from me.” He reassures you as he retracts his hand, a soft and crooked smile on his face. “An it wis na problem, an omega like ye shouldn’t be doin things like thon.” He tells you, and you can tell that he doesn’t mean it in a mean way. He means it in a supportive way.

Soap glances over his shoulder and lets out a little huff, his fists clenching a bit at his sides before he looks back at you. “e let me know gin ye iver neit help. Okay, little ane?” His voice is serious, like he would be offended if you didn’t come over and get him the next time you need something. You nod and start to close the door, giving him a polite wave before slowly closing the door. Once the door was closed, you turned and pressed your back against the wood, your eyes scanning the house before you. Your roommate isn't in his normal spot anymore and you can hear Jasmine’s footsteps making her way down the stairs to help you unload the groceries.

“I heard a voice.” She states as she steps onto the hardwood with her sock covered feet, padding over to you at the door. “Sounded like a man.” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows at you. Your face immediately erupts into a blush, shaking your head dismissively as you stutter over your words. You don’t know what you can say that will be able to save you here. “It was the neighbor, he wanted to help me carry the groceries in.” You tell her, your voice shaking a bit more than you are comfortable with. You quickly bend over and gather a few bags into your hands and carry them to the kitchen, hoping that you can get away from Jasmine’s interrogation. Jasmine follows you with the rest of the bags and continues to pester you about it. You should’ve known better, she never gives up.

“Come on, you never talk to anyone and I heard you speak more than two words.” She exclaims just loud enough for you to hear, not wanting the mysterious roommate to hear your private life. You purse your lips and start to unload a bag. “We saw each other in the store, he’s a beta.” You tell her with a shrug, your voice quiet. You are caught off guard when she takes the cans you have in your hands into hers and pushes them to the side. “Spill.” She demands, her eyes squinting at you as a blush forms on your face.

“I don’t know, Jas. I felt comfortable around him..” You tell her, rocking slightly back and forth on your heels. “..I guess he’s cute, but he has a pack already.” You explain, continuing your train of thought. “He has two alphas. It would never work out anyways.” You say dismissively, shrugging her hands off of your shoulders. She has a smirk on her face, feeling victorious finally getting the information out of you. “You never know, hun. Things could turn around in the end.” She tries to perk you up, not wanting this to discourage you from going after you want. This is the first time that you’ve shown interest in someone other than people from the tv shows that you watch. She hopes that if things end up not working, that it won’t stop you from forming a bond with someone in the future. She knows how hard it can be to not get what you want so badly, and being so close to having it too.

The room is silent, other than the sound of bags rustling and things being put away, as you clear the room from the grocery bags. It doesn’t take the two of you long to unload the groceries since you didn’t get too much. Being inside of crowded stores by yourself makes it feel like your head is full of water, everything becomes overwhelming so you can’t stay long enough to get a lot. “Thank you for getting the groceries.” Jasmine says as she wraps her arms around you, squeezing tight to give you some compression. She can tell that you had a rough day, and then having to go to the store on top of that made it that much worse. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t go, work went on later than I thought it would.” She apologies, her voice muffled by your head as she presses her relaxed lips against your head.

You can feel the tension from the day start to leave your body as you are comforted by a familiar beta. You can tell that she is projecting her scent to help you calm down, her enhanced cinnamon scent almost burning your nose. While Soap helped you calm down after the store, he wasn’t able to wipe that discomfort from your body like Jasmine can. You are forever grateful for having her in your life, she has become your rock in the last years, helping you become the best version of yourself while supporting you when you mess up along the way. She is the best friend that everyone wishes they had, it felt like a miracle that your two paths crossed and intertwined. “It’s the least I could do, you are so helpful to me all the time..” You mumble as you tuck yourself against her as she holds you tight. It feels like she is squeezing all the worries out of you.

The two of you stand like that for a long while, only pulling away when a loud shout is heard through the wall. It is the booming voice of an alpha, it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your eyes widen. Jasmine covers your ears quickly and smiles reassuringly at you as she waits for the alpha next door to stop. Your hands go to cover her hands with yours, pressing harder on her hands to block out the sound further. It takes a few minutes, but they eventually calm down and Jasmine uncovers your ears, brushing some hair out of your face. “You’re okay.” She reassures you. “Sounds like he was upset that his beta wasn’t spending time with him.” She explains, pulling away and stretching her arms a bit.

You start to feel guilty, knowing that you had taken up some of this beta’s time, this beta that has an alpha. You look at the ground and you can tell that your scent sours again when Jasmine cups your face. “It isn’t your fault.” She tells you firmly. “He shouldn’t have helped you if he knew it would upset his alpha. That isn’t your fault.” She states, pinching your cheek to get you to perk up. You grumble at that and swat away her hand. “What have I told you about pinching my cheeks?“ You huff as you push her hands away further. Jasmine just smiles, relieved that she was able to help you calm down so easily. You cock an eyebrow at her as she just continues to smile at you, making her throw her hands up in surrender.

Jasmine feels bad that the only person that you seem to show an interest in has two alphas. She knows how hard it is for you to function when there is an alpha around, having two in the same household with you seems impossible. She’s tried her best in the past years that you two have known each other to get you to open up around alphas. But, your past with alphas is hard to forget and there seems to be nothing that Jasmine can do to make you feel better. She gave up eventually, and ended up just accepting the quirk that you have. You are able to make it through life without it being too inconvenient for you, while it is hard and sometimes frustrating when an alpha doesn’t get the hint.

You can feel your ears perk up slightly when the roommate comes out of his room and comes to sit in his normal spot. You squint your eyes and then give Jasmine the side eye as if to ask ‘what’s with him?’ She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes and motions for you to come closer. You’re standing near him, and the roommate, who you still don't know the name of, has given Jasmine no reason to trust him. You are quick to listen to Jasmine, not questioning her for a second. You step towards his and grab her hand for comfort.

He’s never once tried to help in any of the house responsibilities or tried to help either of the two of you with emotional needs, which isn’t quite normal for a beta that is in such close quarters with other people. Most betas and omegas take on the responsibility to help in these kinds of situations, even if they are not in a pack together. The place that you live in will be peaceful if you take care of the things inside of it. The only exception to this unspoken rule you can think of would be if he is in a rival pack, but he lives with two random strangers and doesn’t have any marks on his neck so he’s not in a pack. Nothing about this man makes sense to you or Jasmine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soap watches as you turn slightly and the door closes softly, he can’t help the smile that covers his face. He can tell that he makes you a little nervous, but he can’t help himself from teasing someone as cute as you are, even just a little bit. He turns on his heels and walks with a newfound energy towards their side of the conjoined building. He walks across the top of the driveway, having to squeeze his muscular body between the garage door and car that was parked there. It was probably Gaz's, the man never drove his own car, he either had the others drive him, or borrowed one of their cars for the day. It was frustrating, but the three of them can’t resist that slight pout that comes to his pretty lips when they get upset at him.

Soap reaches the door and pushes it open, smiling as he enters the house, stepping into the small entryway that has only a table and a mirror. The boys were never too keen on decorating, only doing what they needed. He closes the door behind him and he doesn’t even make it five five steps into the kitchen before he feels a hard chest against his back and an angry puffing breath against his ear. From the vanilla and mahogany scent turned moldy, Soap could tell that it is Ghost that is angrily making himself known. “Care to explain why you smell like an omega?” Ghost growls out, his hands going to grip Soaps elbows tightly. “Why..” He takes a deep breath. “It’s recen’.” He growls lowly.

Soap feels panic rising in his chest, feeling as though he’d been caught. If it were normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be so nervous that Ghost was mad. But he’s been flirting with you, trying to touch you when he shouldn’t even really be talking to you with how worked up the boys have been recently. “Um.., yeah.” Soap hesitated, his voice coming out a little squeaky at first. “She wis takin the groceries inside aw bi herself.” He explains, trying to move his arms so that he can reassure Ghost with his touch. Ghost doesn’t budge, he only lets out a warning growl to let Soap know that he is exactly where he wants him to be.

Ghost can feel his anger growing and swelling inside of his chest, he feels like he can’t control himself. He huffs and puffs for a moment, his grip tightening on Soap’s elbows. “Are you fucking kidding me, Johnny?” Ghost asks, making Soap’s heartbeat pick up. He knows that Ghost would never hurt him, but after seeing what he’s like when torturing someone for information and on top of his guilt behind the situation, Soap can’t help but get nervous around him when he’s this angry. “You barely fricking greeted me when came home from training the other day because you had to take care of price. Which is fucking peachy. Bu' then you go on a date with him so he can ‘make i' up to you’! meanwhile, i’m over here pulling my damned hair ou' because i can’' ge' a single piece of attention from either of my betas!” Ghost rants, his voice increasingly getting louder the longer he talks.

His grip on Soap’s arm is tightening with every second that passes, starting to become painful. “Ow, Simon..” Soap quietly complains, trying to softly tug his arms out of Ghost’s grip. Ghost immediately lets go and starts to pace around, his hands going to his hair. Soap turns around to face him with a worried look on his face. It isn’t normal for Ghost to act like this. “Then you go to the store to buy food from the store, your alpha even called you while you were quite! no' only did you hardly pay attention to him while he was quite talking, you came home empty handed!” He shouts, stopping to point a finger at him accusingly. “And then you come home smelling like the omega nex' door! because she needed help!” He mocks. “She has a pack literally inside her house!” Ghost reminds Soap

All soap can do is stand there with a guilty look on his face, nodding along with Ghost’s yelling. “You better hurry your sorry arse  to Price's office.” Ghost growled, his voice low. “You better be thankful he’s dealing with you, i wouldn’ have gone so easy.” He tells Soap, glaring at him as he slithers around him and scurries up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @Horny-bish @Wizzdot @the-loneyest

Please put your age in your bio if you want to be added :)

A/N: really sorry about the wait this time guys. I had this all planned out and was working on it nonstop just for my dog to stop walking. It was crazy. She’s doing a lot better now, she’s pretty wobbly on her feet but we don’t have to help her walk anymore.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

why is it okay for killer to be unhealthily obsessed with color but it suddenly crosses a line when it's dust or someone else

Because it is acknowledged as unhealthy when it becomes unhealthy, is because killer is a traumatized character who hasn’t had healthy relationships in years and tends to think of them in terms of a hierarchy, and because the whole point of killer’s ending with color is that he doesn’t stay that way forever and is having help and support and therapy.

Not to mention I am all about staying close to canon and I firmly believe Killer would not even care enough about Dust to become ‘obsessed’ or fixated. Color is the only person who has not only made Killer feel something in years consistently, but makes him feel real and treats him as if he’s real.

Of course the traumatized disordered man who already struggles to tell what is and isn’t real latches on to that and is a bit terrorital. Color is literally the only person or thing that has made him feel an inch of happiness in years—the only one who has made him feel like an actual person, the one keeping him grounded and will not just let him slip away into his detachment—outside of his cats—which, if you’d recall, are not safe from Nightmare. Color at least has the abilities to fight back and fight back good. Killer is attracted to his strength, after all, amongst many things. (Something Dust does not have, btw, ergo not safe to bother trying to attach to.)

My main issue was never that Killer was obsessed. My issue was that its sexualized almost all the time, it happens for hardly any explainable reasons that make sense and it happens with characters he wouldn’t feel that way towards—and im never given a reason as to why im supposed to believe that this character—known for his apathy and neutrality towards most people and detachment and genuine lack of ability to form many emotional attachments—is behaving that way. And so I am only left to assume it’s because the person depicting it is a Dust or Nightmare simp and want me to believe that Killer would feel the same way about these characters that they do.

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow x Fem Reader

Regency au part 3

Promenade

Note: part three is finally done! so sorry for the delay, writers block mixed with seasonal depression hit me hard. most of the set up is done so hopefully I can get a bit quicker on getting these parts done. this part is very long so be warned and of course enjoy -Chrystal

The morning was filled with non stop chatter about the news. You were now the diamond of the season not only that but you were also the first Mobian to be named the diamond. Something as big as that surely could not be ignored.

Somehow you had managed to charm the queen and land in her good graces. You were grateful for her majesties kindness but were very confused, you had only briefly spoken to the queen and while it was an engaging conversation she did not convey that you had impressed her enough to be rewarded for this honor.

Regardless of how her decision was made you could not complain about how this would certainly help you find a husband by the end of the season.

However a new problem had presented itself. Dozens of gentlemen had come to call on you hoping to secure you as their wife. Many of which were only interested in your new status and not your interests, your wants or your desires in life. They rambled on and on about their accomplishments and how great their families were, never bothering to ask your opinions on the matter.

During visiting hours you a single question lingered in the back of your mind, would Shadow come to visit you?

He hadn't stated his intentions to marry nor did you want to court him but he said he was going to try speaking to you more, surely a friendly visit wouldn't hurt, especially after how quickly you had fled the ball last night, wouldn't he want answers?

You waited patiently for any sign of him to no avail. It was only after the last gentlemen had departed that you received a bouquet of pale red carnations.

Carnations had been one of your favorite flowers as a child, the way the petals folded in and out of each other like draped silk. The white and red intertwined reminding you of simpler times when anything felt possible and you never thought about suitors or forgotten friendships, it was just you, Shadow, and Maria against the world.

The card attached read "I look forward to our next meeting my dearest friend. - Viscount Shadow Robotnik"

So he did remember your address.

You read the small card over and over expecting there to be more to it. One sentence, that's all? And yet that one sentence clung to your mind.

You couldn't help but feel conflicted. For the first time you had received a response from Shadow the only thing that you had wanted since Maria's passing, and yet the eight years it took for it to get to you made the gesture taste quite bitter.

For the first eleven years of your life you had known Shadow like the back of your hand but now, he was a complete mystery to you. Question after question kept spinning in your mind and you were growing quite sick of it. You needed answers, luckily you were going to the perfect place to gather information.

💎

Madame Rouge was the best modiste in the kingdom, known for her expertise in all the latest fashions and her exquisite taste in jewelry. All the women of the ton relied on her to make them beautiful, and in turn they would reward her greatly making her one of the richest business owners in the land.

Her riches did not stop at monetary ones, working with every lady in the ton she had amassed quite the collection of secrets. She knew everything about everyone including you. Something about her presence made people comfortable enough to speak about whatever was on their minds, even the the things they didn't want others to know.

If there was a place to find out any information on Shadow, this was where you needed to be. The only problem now was how to bring the topic of him up without making it seem as if you had affections for him.

Luckily Rouge solved that problem for you.

"So I heard about your little dance with a mysterious Viscount last night, tell me about it."

"well I'm not sure there is much to discuss." You were trying to play your cards right if Rouge knew you were looking for information she would assume you had fallen for him. Which you hadn't, you swear.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's all anyone can talk about today. Rumor has it you were childhood friends, is it true?"

"Yes, but it was a long time ago. We haven't spoken since we were children. Last night was the first time I've seen him in eight almost nine years."

"ah so you were reunited last night, how did that feel seeing him after all this time? Absolutely smitten I'd bet."

Oh no, she was digging for gossip. you've seen her do this dozens of times, she was good and she could get the truth out of anyone.

"Oh, no it's nothing like that I was just-"

"Ah ah ah no point in lying to me , I can see it in your eyes, they sparkle with that first love glow. speaking of sparkle, this silver lace overlay would look fantastic with this silk what do you think?"

You looked in the mirror the combination of the fabrics draped across your shoulder. Madame Rouge truly was an artist, the color complimented you perfectly, giving you an almost ethereal glow. you didn't know it was possible for you to look that way. was that really you?

"Wow." you stood there in awe of yourself. "I look..."

"Like a Diamond." Rouge finished your sentence for you. " I Never congratulated you on your status. How does it feel?"

"I almost don't believe it. I mean there are so many other ladies of the ton whom I feel are much more refined than me and deserving of the title."

"Well I happen to be an expert on fine jewels and I always find a diamond is much more than it's cut, a true diamond shines it's light not only on itself but on the other jewels surrounding it. You are brilliant and I know exactly how to make you shine. you just focus on reflecting that light. Know your worth miss Y/N it will guide you to the right place."

Rouge's words were reassuring, You supposed that was why she was the best. She knew how to not only make ladies look beautiful but feel beautiful as well.

"I cannot give you the answers you are looking for, only the viscount can." Rouge added.

How had she figured it out? You hadn't even spoken his name since you've been here.

"You'd be amazed at the things a modiste can pick up my dear. unfortunately I cannot be of help in your investigation. But I will say, He will be quite enamored when he sees you in this dress."

Your cheeks heated at the thought, the strange fluttering returning once again, the heat and excitement of the day must have left you feeling ill, hopefully you could recuperate at tea time.

Rouge took your order and you and your mamma were off on your way. the madame gave you a look you couldn't quite place as you left, but you could tell that she knew more than she was saying, and that your conversation wasn't over.

💎

The sweet aroma of roses wafted throughout the conservatory as the sun beamed through the glass giving the room a soft glow. The table was set with the most delicious assortment of finger sandwiches, biscuits, and small cakes; a setup to which the Rose household was known for.

"I am just delighted that you were named this season's Dimond, of all my friend's you are by far the most eligible for the title." Amy poured you a cup of tea to your liking before serving it to you.

"That is too kind of you to say, but if I'm being perfectly honest I would have thought that you would be given the title far before I would have."

"I'm sure if I was offered the title I would have refused it, It would only complicate my plans for this season."

"I Presume your dance with the Duke went well then?"

"More than just well. It was practically perfect."

"Has he called on you then?"

"No, He has not. However I hope to run into him while we are on promenade after tea. How about your mysterious viscount? You left quite hastily last night we didn't get the chance to say our goodbyes or talk even talk about him."

"Yes, my sincerest apologies I was feeling faint from the events of the ball. As for the viscount, I feel conflicted on one hand he is my closest childhood friend but with so many years of silence between us I fear he may have changed completely. I do not know the man he has become, and any attempts I've made to find out thus far have been in vain."

"would the answer persuade you on weather or not to pursue him as a suitor?"

"I would not consider him a suitor of any kind, regardless of the answer."

Amy paused for a moment taking a sip from her tea. this was common when she needed a moment to ponder her next words, choosing carefully what to say as to not offend her company.

"Dearest Y/N, if the answer does not affect your feelings on him then why search for answers at all?"

You weren't sure how to answer. You had thought you had put him in the past with the rest of your childhood. But the moment you saw him again you couldn't seem to shake him from your mind. perhaps it was all the unanswered questions, or the childhood memories breaking free from the cage you had locked them in.

When you saw him you felt the hole that had been left in your heart in his absence that you had tried and failed to fill. You felt the pain of all those years that you had grown numb to suddenly strike you like a knife once again tearing you apart. You felt angry that he had appeared so easily, and scared that he would disappear just as swiftly.

and despite all of the negative emotions a fraction of hope you couldn't ignore cut through all of them. The hope that maybe things were different now, that he could come back to you, Hope that the one thing you had wanted since Maria's passing was here and that your wounds may finally begin to heal.

you knew hope was fleeting, and answers were the only way to ensure that your hope was justified, that he wouldn't disappear on you again. he said he wanted to do better for you but how were you to know weather or not his word was good without truly knowing the man he had become?

To suddenly see the boy you once knew like the back of your hand re-appear as a complete stranger, not knowing anything about his adult life, or even what kind of a person he is anymore. what were you to make of that?

Before you could begin to answer Amy's query Her ladies maid interrupted inadvertently saving you from explaining your issue further. handing Amy a news pamphlet.

"Miss Rose the articles you requested have arrived"

"Thank you Pearl."

"News articles? What is this about?" you asked hoping to redirect the conversation.

"Oh nothing much really, I've been following the story of a masked vigilante they have been calling The Black Thorn. Have you heard of him?"

"I can't say I have. with all the preparation I had to do for this season I hardly had any time for independent reading."

"Well they say he showed up mysteriously some months ago and no one knows who he is behind the mask. They say he moves so swiftly that hardly anyone knows when he's coming or going. the only proof he ever leaves behind are the criminals he defeats usually knocked out cold."

"I thought your father forbid you from reading articles like that."

"You know I can't resist a good hero story. Promise me you wont tell him?"

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing."

Amy smiled at you

"So does that mean the Duke has some competition this year?" you teased.

"I don't think anyone could pull my attention from the duke."

"Well that is too bad, I hear gentlemen can be swayed to a proposal when threatened by a rival."

"I may need to keep that in mind for later" Amy Giggled "Now finish your tea, I want to read your leaves."

You smiled at your friend yielding to her request as you enjoyed the beautiful spring afternoon.

💎

Of all the activities of the social season the promenade was by far your favorite. being outside in nature always helped clear your head and you desperately needed to clear your head after the events of the past day.

You walked side by side with Amy admiring the beauty of the public garden together, your ladies maids' trailing behind you.

"I still can't believe you won't tell me my fortune. what is the point in you reading it if I am not allowed to know?" You fussed

"Perhaps you knowing may affect the outcome, I'll never tell" Amy teased

"Well I would hope you would tell me should my fate be disastrous"

"I promise if you were in danger I would inform you swiftly to help avoid such fates."

you giggled "I appreciate that, now please tell me my fortune"

Amy smiled at you. "No, you shall soon find out for yourself I promise."

"And will I be pleased?"

"I'd rather think so" she giggled before turning her attention to her surroundings.

Amy's eyes scanned the garden searching for someone, far too distracted to engage in anymore meaningful conversation which you were grateful for. You enjoyed your friend's presence however you needed respite from all that was plaguing your mind.

You took a deep breath allowing the crisp spring air fill your lungs. you focused only on your senses the smell of the grass, the sound of the water flowing in the pond.

you needed this, to focus on the present moment, to feel nature surround you. The problems of society could wait for the time being the diamond needed her rest.

Unfortunately your rest would prove to be quite brief as the Duke of green hill quickly approached you and miss Rose.

"Good day ladies, have the two of you been enjoying your walk?" He asked.

"It has been quite wonderful your grace, thank you for asking." Amy replied

"Miss L/N would you offer me the kindness of allowing me to escort your friend through the rest of the garden?"

"Of course my lord, should she agree."

"I would be delighted to join you but I would feel awful leaving my dear friend on her own"

"Do not worry about me I'm sure my mamma is around here somewhere she can escort me the rest of the way."

"I may have another solution please excuse me for a moment ladies" the Duke excused himself leaving you and Amy alone once again.

"What are you doing? I thought you were looking to spend time with the duke."

"I do but I don't want to leave you alone either, I mean what kind of a friend would that make me?"

"The kind who wants to be married."

"Y/N, I know the social season can often make enemies of friends, I refuse to let that fate befall us."

"You know just as well as I that is only in the case of two ladies catching the affections of the same gentleman. I do not want the duke so what else is it?"

Amy paused giving you a look you couldn't quite discern.

"Does this have anything to do with my fortune?"

"I am so sorry but I feared if I told you you wouldn't want to come and I knew it was important."

before you could fully comprehend what she was saying the duke returned with Shadow in tow.

"Here we are ladies, Viscount Robotnik has agreed to escort miss L/N through the rest of the garden"

"Only if you'd allow me of course." Shadow elaborated

You shared a glance with Amy her eyes begging you to agree to the arrangement. you would certainly have words with her later on but for now you smiled politely.

"It would be an honor my lord" You responded

"It is settled then, Me and miss Rose will be on our way. Viscount, Miss L/N I hope to see both of you at the symphony tomorrow night. Enjoy your walk."

You bowed as you watched Amy and the duke wonder in their separate direction.

"Shall we?" Shadow looked at you his gaze growing softer

"I suppose we shall."

💎

You and Shadow walked side by side hardly a word being uttered between the two of you for the first few minuets. neither of you knowing where to start. how on earth did the two of you end up like this? So distant, so unfamiliar with one another to the point of being unable to even begin a conversation.

What would Maria think? knowing that her best friend's; her brother, and you were estranged. She must be disappointed, or worse hurt by the fate that befell her friend's in her absence.

You couldn't allow the distance and the years gone by to keep you from the now. You had him back and you weren't going to let him slip away again so easily.

"I was quite surprised to receive your bouquet this morning." you started.

"I felt you needed some token of apology for not calling upon you this morning, Carnations are still your favorite correct?"

"Yes they are, I will say I'm surprised you remembered."

"How could I forget? you were always picking them, requesting your governess to place them in your hair. if I recall correctly you asked your father for a tiara made of them did you not?"

you smiled at the memory resurfacing in your head "Yes, oh I was devastated when he told me it wasn't possible to find someone who could make one for me."

"Maria and I spent the whole day with you in that flower field trying to cheer you up."

"I had so many flowers my father was worried we would cause a floral shortage. And you were covered in petals for days after that."

"well I can assure you that I am completely free of any petals these days"

you smiled at him the Shadow of your childhood peeking out from behind his exterior.

"I must say I am not quite used to seeing you like this, all grown up and so refined."

"I could say the same for you, although I am not surprised to see you become the diamond of your first season, you always had a graceful demeanor even as a child."

"so you have seen the news."

"Yes but I assure you it has no affect on our friendship."

you didn't quite know why but hearing him say that disappointed you. It wasn't as if he was courting you anyway but for some reason you felt a small tug in your chest.

"well, that is good to hear I suppose."

you looked forward fearing your eyes would give away your inner thoughts.

the awkward silence returned once again. It was Shadow's turn to break it.

"I hear you're an excellent rider."

"what?"

"Of horses, I recall you wanting to learn as a girl, I am pleased hear that you learned."

"Oh, yes it took a while but I eventually convinced my father to give me lessons, as it turns out I have a knack for it."

Shadow paused for a moment carefully choosing his next words.

"May I ask you something Miss L/N?"

"I suppose"

"Why did you choose this season to come out? you are only nineteen surely you could have waited a year or two before joining the marriage mart. Didn't you want to see more of the world before settling down."

"What ever do you mean by that."

"Maria and you would always talk about all the adventures the two of you would go on. all the different places you'd see and the people you would meet. it surprises me that you would choose to stay put after speaking of adventure so passionately."

"Yes, but that was before we knew our limitations."

"Your limitations?"

"Women cannot travel on their own Your Grace, not without causing themselves serious scandal"

"What about your studies then? do you not wish to continue?"

"Why are you so concerned about my coming out?"

"Because it doesn't make any sense."

"How do you know what choices make sense for me and what don't. We are practically strangers because of you and your lack of action, my choices are none of your concern." you snapped your frustrations finally boiling to the surface.

"I am worried about you."

"Worried about me? Why would you worry about me after ignoring me for eight years. I didn't even know you were back in town until last night, how long have you been back anyway?"

Shadow grew quiet not wanting to meet your eyes out of shame.

"Three months."

You were in shock, how could he be back for so long and how had no one noticed? knowing he was so close this whole time made his silence sting even worse.

"Three months? And you never bothered to send any correspondence not even a note."

"I feared you did not wish to see me."

"I always wished to see you." tears formed in the corners of your eyes. "How could you say that, after all those years of writing you. How could you possibly come to that conclusion? Did you even read my letter's?"

"Y/N I-"

"No! it is clear to me now that you wish to be strangers, and this rekindling of friendship is all a ruse to ease whatever guilty conscious you may have and I am in no interest of participating."

you stormed away fighting the urge to cry. public tears were sure to spark some kind of scandal one which you couldn't afford not with all eyes currently on you.

"Y/N please" Shadow called from behind you

you kept walking your heart breaking with each step you took.

"Y/N don't walk away please stay."

"Why?"

Shadow catching up to you, grabbed you by the hand and turned you to face him his eyes betraying his stoic demeanor. he reached into his pocket and produced a folded piece of paper.

"take this please"

reluctantly you obeyed, opening it you read.

Dear Y/N,

Hello, I am sorry it has been so long, i have been busy with school. I miss you with each passing day. my teacher keeps a flower pot on his desk it's a carnashion carnation. everytime i see it I think of you.

I hope this letter reaches you before your twelvth 12th birthday. mother always told me that it is rude to make people wait for a birthday gift.

I wish Maria and I could be there with you

I wish I could help you celebrate

I wish

that's where the letter ended. So he did try to write you.

"Every time I tried to start it always ended like this." He spoke. "I know now my absence has been painful to you, more painful than I anticipated. I am not asking for your forgiveness only a second chance. please I cannot lose you."

he seemed earnest, steeling yourself you prepared your answer.

"If we continue you need to make a promise to me."

"Anything."

"You have to be completely honest with me and answer every question no matter how sad it makes you, or how negatively you may think I'll react."

"I promise."

"And another thing, you must meet with me every Wednesday from now on to promenade, if you truly want this friendship I wish for commitment you must speak with me in person at least once a week. Do you accept these terms?"

Shadow took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. he looked beyond your face and stared into your soul.

"With all my heart." he stated, the warmth in his voice seeming more like a vow than a promise.

the flutter once again returned to your chest feeling more welcome than it was before.

"Good." you stated "Then let's get started."

Shadow smiled at you in a way you couldn't help but return. all the tension from the day melted away you were on the path to get your answers and you finally had your friend back.

[gogandmagog]

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Anne of the Island, Chapter Six! 

Getting so very close to being finally caught up. 🫡 I’m still in the book clubs dust, but if I squint, I think I can almost see you guys! Apologies to anyone that might see this, that might’ve already previously (and punctually!) shared a sentiment that I spent any amount of time reinforcing in my own posts. I haven’t skimmed the book club’s tag so far, just because I have this brain impediment where if I see someone else has already mentioned something I think, “...oh excellent! Now I needn’t bother!”, only, that everyone is so thorough that if I did go ahead and look at them, and saw everyone’s thoughts, I’m sure I’d find I had nothing left to speak on. A serial liking of all book club posts, coming soon to a notif near you, honestly.  

Some weensy Phil bullets: mostly that well, I persist in representing Team Alec (only until a certain long-legged Minister appears, of course), because here is a fellow who would at least find the mix-up of Phil’s letter postscripts “funny.” This puts him eons and miles and worlds ahead of Alonzo imo... a sense of humour is so necessary!  

Speaking of Redmond football, an insignificant matter that is once again very much nonsense and not particularly worthy of spending any large amount of much time reflecting on, yet remains a great area of interest for me personally... guys, what do we reckon the Redmond Football mascot was? Team name? I know there’s future canon abbreviation of Redmond students as “Reds,” but a colour is hardly a sufficient team name, nor do I really think it’s meant to be taken as such, and listen, no one even think of mentioning the stinking Cleaveland Browns football team to me, lmao.  

“That Gilbert of yours.” + “outraged Anne” AIR KISS to these lines specifically.  

“But Sloane was blissfully ignorant; he thought he was quite a fine fellow to be walking with two such coeds, especially Philippa Gordon, the class beauty and belle. It must surely impress Anne. She would see that some people appreciated him at his real value.” Oh, Charlie. I constantly waffle between feeling pity for Charlie, the butt of many-a-joke, and then also feeling that wellllllll his ego is a little bit exaggerated perhaps - although I suppose we get a clearer sense of that later on. Since all of Avonlea knows that Gilbert’s dead-gone on Anne, to the point of pubic heckling in a Charlottetown newspaper, we must recognise that in Charlie’s mind, he’s in active competition with Gilbert, who has certainly loved Anne the longer. Not an ounce of discernable bro-code anywhere.   

Gilbert quoting some Bret Harte verses to Anne. This boy might not have a propensity for writing original poetry, but his memorisation and ability to drop a line or two so easily? He’s got a romantic soul, for sure. In a lot of ways, between him and Anne, it’s actually Gilbert that’s the romantic one (also see: keeping the rose that fell from her hair, back at the White Sands recital), and Anne the steady practical.  

“Gilbert, who could not connect the idea of sorrow with the vivid, joyous creature beside him, unwitting that those who can soar to the highest heights can also plunge to the deepest depths, and that the natures which enjoy most keenly are those which also suffer most sharply.” This is heavy. But more than anything, something I very much enjoy about Maud’s work is her ability to maintain core characterisation. I see this line, and I also think of how much it (later) casts light onto Gilbert’s struggle to really relate to some of Walter’s Anneishness. There’s a wonderful yin and yang balance between the slinky black cats and golden retrievers of the world, and often enough they are deeply attracted to each other, but there are some differences that can never been fully reconciled.  

The matter of Spofford Avenue! Again the scholars have already done a ton of the legwork, and lots of preliminary digging into Maud’s journals, picking out real-life links between between her time in Halifax and how it corresponds to Anne’s… and they’ve decided, very logically, that Spofford Avenue was based on Young Avenue.

At the time, Halifax was one of the richest cities in Canada and building on Young Avenue, definitely reserved for prominent families and the wealthiest, apparently came with enough beautification restrictions to satisfy even the choosiest A.V.I.S. member, only of a few of which I can easily remember… that power poles were banned on the basis of being “unsightly,” for starters. I know there’s a whole essay dedicated to the ‘real’ Kingsport somewhere, and if I can find it instead of just my jumbled notes & misc. folder on it, I’ll be sure to share it in case anyone’s interested. 🧐 I also recall that a very real tobacco king called Alexander Hobrecker (‘Hobrecker House’) did indeed make residence on Young Avenue, though whether or not he really had an affinity for well-made country quilts, is anyone’s guess.

[bevydev]

It's like there's never going to be a time that people will log onto Tumblr and not collectively decide to throw this unwarranted hate at Our Flag Means Death is there?

There's this post going around about how people are only consuming media that only features one type of trope or theme then complaining about how those are the only themes or tropes that they see are being made nowadays. It gives examples on how narrow-minded it is if you're only consuming vampire media instead of branching out to other forms of YA, or listen to female rappers of you want rappers that aren't misogynist.

Then acts like ofmd fans think that the show is first time there's ever been gay people in television in the first time in the history of forever.

This isn't a case of fans 'celebrating the first gay character on television ever' but making it one of the many shows that are adamant to make gay characters front and center without them being 'left for interpretation' or something that can easily thrown to the side without affecting anything, or sanitized through censorship hell and back until it practically doesn't exist.

Like anytime someone wants to mourn how anything queer is being taken down no matter how popular or beloved it was because execs would rather die than to accept it, I wonder why people on here harp on how much they're so glad ofmd got cancelled as if that wasn't one of its main reasons that it was.

Or when somebody critiques a show that's obviously forcing anything queer through this strained hatred for it at the same time, I wonder why ofmd is still one of the shows people being thrown under the bus as if it was anything even close to that criteria especially when the show's creator, the actors, writers, etc. were all pouring as much love in it's story as much as possible.

Like..... just look at what Disney did by when they tore down an episode with a trans character in it from being viewed online, then later when trying to make a public statement of hosting anything lgtbq on their shows: "We realize that families may want to 'explain' queer people to their children instead and that's why need to remove any instance of their existence throughout our programs" think that it sounds anywhere near as innocent, reasonable, and professional as they're trying to make it. Knowing fully well that's it's just a paper-thin excuse to make sure they never have to deal with the idea that they ever have to show or cater to anything even slightly queer on their channel ever again.

This just feels like one of those times that people hate a show to the point that they point out on everything negative about it and claim that's it's what all the show has to offer. Even if it wasn't just their own personal dislike for it, the main issue is much more likely of what goes wrong when with fandom when a show tries to be at least a little bit progressive. Because at the same time, so many unchecked biases in the fandom aren't being addressed in the slightest and then get blown out of proportion or at least exaggerated to the point that its what the show is associated with as a whole. So their negative impression with the show feels vindicated and everyone that doesn't like it gets to justify why it was so horrible in the first place.

If that really was the case, then that would mean tearing down every single new queer media out there at least making an attempt to get past every single obstacle out there trying to remove it off the face of the planet. Or disregarding others in the past that tried to do the same thing but didn't get anywhere near as far.

Tl;dr:

If you hated our flag means death so much, fine 😮‍💨. If there were certain aspects of the fandom that bothered you, that will never be something that's new when getting into any fandom. But in all honestly, out of all the media actually causing those issues, ofmd isn't anyone's greatest concern and if anything, really doesn't need to targeted that much as if it is. And at very very least, it doesn't need to be torn left and right on how it was TRYING to make virtually everything about it as openly gay as possible. That's all.

[imsadstuff]

A Royal Romance - A Jungkook and Royal OC Fic (Part 1)

Synopsis: The royal family of Korea changes reigns with a tragic assassination. Crowns are thrust upon the heads of people who never imagined this life. It is a story of many couples, the queen and her prince consort, a king and queen in waiting, a princess and her forced arrangement with Jungkook, but also a disgraced formal royal Yoongi and his boyfriend Jimin. Read along and see how it all unfolds.

Genre: Royalty, Romance, Angst, Love Triangle, lots and lots of romance

Warnings: Mentions of smoking, drinking and drugs, death of side characters, there are mentions of death of parents, some cursing

Word Count: 40K+ (I write long fics what can I say)

Author Note: So, I've decided that the sane thing to do is post the fic in two parts, what I was worried about is the unregulated traction fics in parts get, but it's insane to put an 80k+ fic all in one go. I've also taken a lot of liberties with establishing a Korean royal family, but it is not to offend anyone, it is all for creativity. I hope you enjoy this labour of my love, like, comment, and tell me all the things you loved and didn't! Anyway, enjoy reading!

AO3 Link - if you wish to read this on ao3, enjoy!!

2019

The chill Friday night hits them on the face as they step out from the bar to smoke. A box of removed from a suit jacket pocket and cigarettes are passes around to the rest of the group while the rest get back to their vapes. People talk about clients, money that was made today, dip in the market that happened last week, predictions for next week. These people spend well over 80 hours together every day and mostly talk about work, that’s all they know to do.

“You’re quiet today, what’s up?” Aiden asks as she continues to check something on her phone, her cousin got engaged last night and the group chat is filled with pictures from the glamourous night.

“Nothing, it’s just been a long week” Sarah says as she takes a long drag off her vape and shuts off her phone, deciding to call her cousin tomorrow morning.

Aiden knows somethings bothering her, he wants to reach out and comfort her but he just can’t, not with people around. That why he takes the opportunity to pull her away as the group orders their 5th round of beer.

“Hey” Aiden says as the two of them stand in a quiet, secluded corner of the bar, his arm drape around her waist and she looks up at him with the same flat face she’s had all day.

“You’re oddly quiet today, did I do something wrong?” Aiden asks and Sarah just rests her head on his chest.

“My favourite cousin is getting engaged today and I really wanted to be there but I couldn’t be, I feel so bad for missing this major event in his life” Sarah shares as Aiden rakes his fingers through her hair.

“You have a favourite cousin? Also, why couldn’t you be there? I would have approved that leave” Aiden says the last thing with a playful chuckle and Sarah just gives him a sarcastic look as she pulls her head up.

“Because my mother and her brother, my cousin’s father haven’t been on talking terms for the last few years, we’re basically not supposed to talk with that part of the family. If I went, it would be this whole thing with my mother and I just don’t have the energy for that” Sarah shares and the same sadness returns to her face.

“That’s, um, complicated, how about we leave and go to my place, I’ve got something at my place that’ll definitely help you feel better” Aiden says in a suggestive manner and Sarah just laughs, so ready to leave this dive bar.

Picking pizza on their way home feels like the best decision ever as Sarah takes the biggest puff off the joint, passing it to Aiden. The two of them cuddle even closer as the wind gets colder, smoking on the balcony is definitely always a bad decision.

“You feel better now?” Aiden asks, putting out the rest of the joint for later. Sarah doesn’t say anything, but she does turn around to place a soft kiss on his warm lips.

“So, you wanna go away the next weekend, my place in the Hamptons is ready just in time for Autumn” Aiden asks as the two of them make their way in. Sarah has done this a few times at his apartment now, she walks into the kitchen as starts reheating the pizza like she’s done before.

“You’re my boss Aiden, you have to know that we have to submit the quarterly growth report the following Monday” Sarah says as she looks in the pantry for some kind of hot sauce.

“I’m telling not you this as your boss, but I put Peter in charge of that so that we could go away” Aiden looks at the scandalous look on Sarah’s face as he laughs and removes the tabasco sauce she’s been looking for.

“Why’d you do that?” Sarah asks as he continues to get some drinks for them, Aiden just shrugs as he walks back into the living room. Sarah just follows him watching the 6 feet man get comfortable on his sofa.

“Aiden, you could get in real trouble if people at work found out we’re involved. I mean, I would be in trouble, but not as much as you would be as a senior partner” Sarah says as she hands him a plate with a slice on it and nestling right where she was.

“Why are you so scared to say that we’re dating? Involved with each other? What is it going to be next, you’re just a friend who sleeps over at my place five times a week?” Aiden says as he takes the biggest bite of the pizza.

“I didn’t want to come off to needy by having the ‘what are we’ conversation, you should have just been a man and asked me if you can be by boyfriend” Sarah teases as she stands up and takes a seat on his lap.

“Oh, how sexist of you, I thought you were a modern feminist woman, remember that speech you gave when a client called you sweetheart” Aiden recalls and Sarah just chuckles as she steals his pizza.

“I’ve never seen a white man that scared of a 5’2 Korean woma-“ Aiden stops talking as the front door bursts open, the two of them look shocked as men in military uniform with guns in their hands file into the room.

“Sorry for the intrusion but I’ve been calling you for the past hour and it’s a matter of your security” a man in a suit says as he walks closer to the couple. Sarah stands with confusion on her face, still looking around the room.

“Namjoon what happened?” Sarah asks pulling her robe even tighter. Namjoon looks behind at Aiden and then looks back at her.

“Mr Smith can you give us a minute, I need to discuss some highly sensitive details with her Royal Highness Princess ___” Namjoon talks and Aiden’s confusion just grows.

“What?” Aiden mumbles mostly to himself as he stays still on the sofa. Sarah takes a seat beside him, taking his hands into hers.

“She’s been using an assumed name in the States, she’s actually-“ “Namjoon can you shut the fuck up and give us some space, and get these snipers out of here, I’m sure I’m not in grave danger” ___ intervenes and Namjoon just nods as he takes a step back and does what he was told.

“My mother is the twin sister of the current King of Korea, we moved to the states when I was 4 because my father wanted us to live a sorta normal life. Sarah is just a name I thought fit me when I was 4, it was the name of my baby sitter” ___ shares as she laughs at the last part. She looks up at the room, watching as the men in uniform file out of the room, not brave enough to look at Aiden yet.

“So, um, you’re ___?” “Actually, the correct protocol for you to address her is Your Royal Highness Princess ___ and there after Your Royal Highness” Namjoon intervenes once again as he just stands there.

“You don’t need to do that and can you give Namjoon and I a minute, he wouldn’t have broken in if it wasn’t life and death” ___ asks and Aiden just wordlessly walks into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“I think I have been pretty clear-“ “Your Highness, we do not have time, I need you to get to safety now, things will be explained then” Namjoon says as he picks up her jacket and places it in her lap.

“Is it my brothers, is it my parents, what is wrong?” ___ asks with a small voice, the worst scenarios flashing into her mind.

“It’s not them, but it is very serious” Namjoon is usually a strong, confident man, but tonight, he looks shaken up.

“Where is he, everyone’s here but him” ___ asks Namjoon as the rest of her family walk into the jet. Her father has the same shaken face Namjoon did and it’s not easing her one bit.

“He’s was in London, he’s on his way to Seoul right now” Namjoon says as the rest of the security team walks into the jet. There’re just confused and anxious faces all around, and the unrest just grows

“So, as of the last we know of the situation, a team of assassins broke into the blue palace’s ball room during the engagement dinner. Security blackout protocol was put into place as soon as the first gun shot was heard, so we haven’t been made aware of the escalation yet.” A man ___ has never seen before announces to the family and her mother clutches onto her even tighter as tears escape her eyes.

“We’ll reach Seoul in the next ten hours, all your cell phones and personal devices have been seized by the security team to make sure we aren’t being tracked. I’ll notify you as we get more information, but in the meantime let’s just hope that the royal family is safe” the man with a stone-cold face says and ___ can’t believe that this isn’t a nightmare.

There is a pit in ___’s stomach as soon as the jet it takes off. ___’s father and elder brother continue talking to the security detail as ___ sister-in-law holds her daughter tight and her mother sits motionless.

There’s stillness in the air as the family walks on the tarmac, without much questioning they get into separate cars to a location that they don’t know about. Namjoon is quite through the ride, ___ not having any energy to ask him anything anyway either.

The car pulls into one of the royal estate outside Seoul, one ___ grew up in. Once again, the family takes a seat in the formal living room, waiting for the head of security to share some details.

“So, we now know all the details of the situation. The late king was shot in his cheat twice, he passed away on the way to the hospital.” The head of security stops talking for a second to catch a breath as he wipes a tear that escaped his eye.

“Prince Eugene was shot in his chest and leg and is in surgery right now. His late fiancé, Ms. Yuri Lee was also shot on her chest, and passed away in the royal ball room.” He continues talking and ___ can hear her mother and sister-in-law sobbing away.

“The Queen has a gunshot in her arm and is currently under surgery as well, The Queen Mother wasn’t harmed by the gunmen” the word late king are still ringing in ___’s head as she tried to take deep breaths to calm herself.

The security head continues talking as ___ spaces out, her head is spinning and she wants to lay down. She has flashes of the pictures her cousin sent her just earlier that day, how happy he was when they talked to each other earlier that week, how hope full he was, how much he was looking forward to his life and pregnant fiancé.

“What hospital is Eugene at? I want to be there when he wakes up” ___ finally talks and the all the people turn around to look at her strangely.

“Ma’am it’s critical to your security that you don’t leave the premises” Namjoon speaks from beside her and she looks around as the rest of room agrees with him.

“My cousin who just lost his pregnant fiancé is under life threatening conditions and I want to be there by his side to comfort him, I’m not integral to the royal lineage anyway” ___’s voice is agitated as she looks at her mother and older brother, Wonik.

“___ you’re being irrational and emotional right now-“ “Yes, I’m being irrational and emotional because loved family members passed away and the one I love the most might be too, aren’t I allowed to be irrational and emotional right now” ___ shouts as she cuts off her brother and he just gives her a resign look as her mother walks closer to talk to her.

“You should go, Eugene needs family right now, Mr Park send the maximum-security detail with her, Namjoon, stay by her side. Take care” she says as she brushes her hands and people around them get to work on her mother’s orders.

There is this eerie silence in the hospital hallways as ___ paces around. She restless and needs a cigarette but she’s too dazed to ask for it. The red-light indicating operation in-progress is giving her a migraine but she can’t look away.

“Do we know where in the chest he was shot?” ___ asks and Namjoon goes back to the security report he was handed the second they entered the hospital.

“A quarter centimetre away from the royal prince’s heart” she hears and takes a seat, there’s no clear thought in her head, she’s trying to imagine him coming out of there alive but she’s never been a positive person.

It’s somewhere around 9 am when ___ jerks herself awake and feels a jacket over her and a head on her shoulder. Her eyes barely register him at first but she completely does in a second.

“Yoongi?” she asks mostly to herself, thinking this is some kind of nightmare. The minute it completely registers to her, she engulfs her brother in a tight hug, tears finally escaping her eyes.

“He’s going to make it, I’m sure, he’s always been a fighter” Yoongi mumbles to her as he pulls away to wipe off her tears. There’s thick silence in the room as ___ rests her shoulder on her older brother’s shoulders.

___ is laying in her childhood room as the doors open and a group of people. A Woman lay out black dresses for her to choose from, as another opens the curtains and other lays out a fresh set of breakfast.

“Ma’am the funeral service is scheduled for 9 am, and you’re expected to be there by 8:30. It’s 7 am right now and it important that you’re on time.” Her lady-in-waiting tells her as ___ rests her back against the headboard. It’s been a week since this nightmare started and it’s been non-stop string of heartbreaks and bad news.

“You are expected to be presentable with a bit of makeup as the press might photograph you but no bright makeup” Sora continues talking as ___ reads a string of texts from Aiden on her phone.

“I’m fully capable of dressing for a funeral for half my family, can you all please give me some privacy” ___’s voice sounds broken as the women walk out the room and close the door behind them.

She stands up and draws the curtains back to stop the sunlight from coming in, walking into her bathroom, she lights a cigarette as she looks at herself in the mirror. She looks sick and the tears haven’t stopped since she broke down in front of a team of doctors at the hospital. Eugene, his fiancé, her uncle and aunt had been dead for a week, her mother had been accessed as the Queen. In a matter of week, her world had been flipped upside down.

Yoongi is waiting in the entryway for the rest of his family to arrive, he fixes his tie for the nth time tomorrow as he fidgets. He hadn’t seen most of his family for the past few years and he constantly feels nauseous, at the brink of throwing up. He observes as his niece is holding her nanny’s hand as she prompts them to walk towards him.

Yoongi had only seen the three-year-old Jia in pictures ___ sent him every now and then. Jia finishes eating her banana as she studies Yoongi and he’s feeling more and more uncomfortable as she walks towards them.

“My mother told me that you’re my uncle” Jia finally speaks as the nanny goes to throw away the banana peel. Yoongi just nods and Jia stands very still and very close to him.

“Why didn’t you come to my birthday parties, aunty ___ always came and brought me the biggest presents and she would always buy me flowers too, she told me they were presents from my uncle, are you that uncle?” Jia asks with a small voice and Yoongi is a bit too stunned to hear this.

“I think so, I’m sorry for missing your birthdays, I lived kinda far away” Yoongi lies about the last part but is very earnest about the first parts. Jia just nods as she contemplates but it ends with a smile.

“It’s okay, I kept the flowers by my bed. How did you know sunflowers are my favourite?” Jia asks and Yoongi cracks a smile as well, he noticed how similar their smiles are.

“___ told me” he shares and the three year old nods in agreement, Yoongi is expecting another question from her but she simply reaches over to fix his tie. Yoongi is taken aback and maybe flinches a bit but just looks down at her tiny hands centring his tie.

“My dad’s tie is always a bit at the side, he asks me to fix it for him sometimes” Jia shares and Yoongi is feeling less and less nervous, but there’s more sound coming towards the hallway and he tenses up.

“I miss my friends, mom tells me that we’re going to have to live in Seoul forever and I don’t want to” Jia shares and the sound of heels towards them intensifies.

“I’m sure your friends miss you as well,” Yoongi says not addressing the last part of the question, he doesn’t want to be selfish and think about that right now but it’s been eating him alive.

Two people walk into entryway at the same time, ___ and Jia’s nanny and he’s a bit eased by them, especially ___. Yoongi looks at her sister with worry, he can smell the cigarettes on her as she takes a seat beside him. Jia lights up seeing her aunt and immediately reaches to hold her aunt.

“I found out that he is sunflower uncle, he does kind of look like a sunflower” Jia shares and ___ cracks a smile. The nauseous feeling is almost gone but returns back as Yoongi looks up to see his parents and brother and sister-in-law ready and walking towards them as well.

There isn’t much talking as everyone stiffly hears to the security detail tell them the plans for the morning. His mother constantly has her forehead wrinkles and all he wants to do is ask if she’s okay, but how can she be okay right now.

Yoongi feels like an outsider watching his family discussing something, he watches as his brother picks up his daughter and hug her tightly, his father trying to comfort her sister as another tear slips out hear eyes as they walk to where the service is happening. He’s a few paces behind them, they’re so used to him not being around, and it is all his doing.

Wonik has written a beautiful eulogy for their family, he’s already acting like a king in making and it’s strange to Yoongi, these were never supposed to be their roles. ___ is following her father as they get some last-minute work done before people start arriving. This isn’t the Min family he remembers, they look functional and loving from an outsider’s perspective.

Yoongi is blankly staring at his family at work as he takes a seat at his assigned seat. He’s too zoned out to notice Haein, his brother’s wife take a seat beside him.

“Jia was telling me all about meeting you today” Haein shares and Yoongi just shares a pleased smile, even tho it might be inappropriate right now. There’s awkwardness between them because Yoongi barely knows her, the last time he saw Haein was at their wedding, he remembers that night very vividly.

“I always read about your music label in the news, works been good?” Haein continues the conversation and Yoongi nods before clearing his throat to speak.

“Yes, it’s been fulfilling. ___ told me you got promoted at the firm before all this happened” Yoongi is biting his tongue as soon as he says that, because Haein’s face only falls more.

“Yes, but this is our life now” she says as she watches his husband discuss something with her mother.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up” “It’s alright, this is all a tragedy out of our control” Haein responds with a melancholic look and Yoongi just nods looking at his sweaty hands.

The funeral and service are exhausting physically added onto the mental exhaustion. Midway through the service ___ makes a beeline towards one of the back door hoping it provides her with some privacy.

She swings the door open to a man in a suit smoking in the corner, he had the same ideas as she did. She looks behind her as she shuts the door, and the sound of that immediately alerts the man.

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” ___ asks as she takes a seat on a bench facing him. The man is alert, too alert, like he forgot what the royal protocol is.

“No, you aren’t Your Royal Highness” the man in a crisp black suit says and ___ chuckles, not used to all this formality yet.

“Can I borrow a smoke? My brother has confiscated my pack” ___ asks with an extended hand, like this is more of an order than a request. The man wordlessly hands him a fresh cigarette and bends down to light it for her. ___ watches as he very cautiously comes close, he’s close enough for her to see a scar on his cheek.

“I don’t know you, so you’re not from my extended family” ___ states and the man looks at her with confusion for a split second before it registers to him.

“Yes, late Prince Eugene was a senior with me in college, he is like a mentor to me, was” the man says, repeating the last part mostly to himself.

“That, um-“ “You don’t have to comfort me your royal highness, I’m sure you’re grieving immensely too” the man interrupts her and ___ just takes a long drag.

“What’s your name, maybe Eugene talked to me about you?” ___ asks after a few seconds of silence and he’s about to answer when the door burst open, ___ turns around to see Namjoon.

“Ma’am your mother is about to go talk to the press and make the speech, you’re supposed to stand with her for support” Namjoon says and ___ immediately jumps to her feet.

“Yes, thank you for this and the talk, can I ask one last favour from you?” ___ asks as she smooth’s out her dress and put out her cigarette.

“Can I steal the pack off you? I have a long afternoon and I can’t just go and buy myself a pack” ___ asks and the man complies with a small smile handing the pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“Take care” the man says and ___ mumbles a small thank you before turning away.

It’s been a month, a long, long month of doing nothing. The residence had the prime minister, business men, financial advisors for the country and other countless important people coming out and in. The siblings have been laying low, Yoongi is getting used to being around family but he desperately wants to go back to his studio in New York. ___ has officially resigned from her job at the hedge fund she started just six months ago. Wonik is still the working for his tech firm, but he’s probably going to have to resign and Haein who barely started as a junior partner at her law firm has quit her job. Their mother, who was a professor of sociology at NYU is now the working as the head of the nation as the queen and lastly their father, part owner and CFO of a hedge fund is in the process of selling in his shares. This bunch of highly successful working people have now been sequestered in their Seoul mansion.

Today was just another day of the week, ___ didn’t even know it was Monday till her lady-in-waiting Sora reminded her of it. It was an important Monday because the family had been called together to have a joint meeting with the press team.

“Hello Jia and Yoongi” ___ says as she enters the dining room and watches the uncle and niece duo who had bonded quite a lot eating breakfast.

“Can I have a toast of sourdough, scrambled eggs with two eggs, half an avocado and chilli oil on the side, also my two shots of espresso with a splash of milk.” ___ asks the cook who nods and goes into the kitchen to get her breakfast going.

“What are your plans for today?” ___ asks Yoongi but Jia is the one who starts talking.

“I am going to a new pre-school today and then I have Korean lessons and then my mom promised me that we will bake a cake before dinner” the four-year-old shares, ___ and Yoongi have delighted smiles on their faces.

“Wow a three-year-old has a more eventful day then me, how about you oppa?” ___ asks and Yoongi hurriedly chews before answering.

“I have a few meetings with a new artist that joined and discussions about an upcoming album, before that we have that press meeting thing, and later I’ve asked to talk to mom and dad about something” Yoongi answers as he takes another big bite of this delicious breakfast.

“Talk about what?” ___ asks as she continues to sip on her water, her skin’s been taking the hit of all the smoking lately and she’s been trying to be healthy. Yoongi doesn’t answer but he rather looks at Jia who’s been done with her breakfast and then at her nanny to take her. The two of them mumble a few good lucks and love you’s as their niece excitedly leaves for school.

“I need to talk to them about returning to New York before we’re assigned any royal duties. I have to, they need me back there, I have so many projects open that need to be delivered soon” Yoongi’s voice is stressed as he shares, he’s been working non-stop since they day they were given back their laptops.

“So, what’s the plan, are you going to like, leave the royal family?” ___ asks with genuine curiosity as the cook brings her food and coffee.

“I haven’t been a part of the family for 7 years now, I don’t think I am a part of this family anymore” Yoongi says more as a matter of fact and that hurts ___ a little.

“They were unsupportive of you wanting to do music, yes. They were very strange when you came out, most definitely, doesn’t mean you’re not a part of this family anymore” ___ says with a soft voice and Yoongi finally looks up from his breakfast.

“___ the world isn’t ready for a gay member in the royal family, if I leave it’s going to be easier for all of us. Imagine the outrage and backlash mom would get, I can’t put her through that” Yoongi says and ___ has altogether stopped eating.

“I’m just not going to be a royal anymore, I’ll still be your brother, I’m still your family” Yoongi reassures with a comforting tap on her hand, prompting her to eat.

“Mom has you and Wonik here, Wonik is already coming into shape as the future king, there’s no space for me here. I have nothing to offer here and I have a boyfriend and business waiting for me in New York.” This is the most Yoongi has talked in the last month, ___ is glad that he’s talking but she doesn’t love the news.

“Okay, have me there when you have the talk, you’re going to need back up with dad” ___ says and Yoongi nods and both of them go back to eating their breakfast.

“Hey, I need to talk to dad before we have the meeting” ___ says to her father’s assistant who just nods and checking a few things on the computer and then standing up to knock on his door.

“___, what do you want to talk about?” her father is in an oddly chirpy mood and it’s throwing ___ off.

“Yoongi is going to come in with a request later to you and mom and I need you guys to be parents rather than members of the royal family” ___ asks as he takes a seat behind the desk.

“What is it?” “He’s going to ask to leave the royal family and I need you guys to let him” ___ asks and her father has a shocked look on his face.

“Why-“ “Father he has a major business-“ “So did I ___, that’s not reason enough to walk away from this” “He’s been publicly out as a gay man for years, he has a loving boyfriend you think the press and people of Korea are going to be kind to him, the news is going to rip his to shreds, it’s going to break him and I don’t want my brother to go through that I hope you guys don’t want your son to go that either” ___’s voice goes up a bit as she stands firm on what he’s saying.

“Leaving the royal family is much more intense than when he left home, there are protocols and procedures in place, I don’t think this is feasible for Yoongi, or anyone right now” her father retorts and ___ sighs, the problems they had in the past seem like champagne problems compared to right now.

“We have to find a way for him, you and mom can’t force Yoongi into royal duties. If he doesn’t leave with a good relationship with you and mom, the thin thread that joins him to this family is going to break” Mr Min feels a tinge of guilt due to ___’s words, he knows what she’s saying is right.

“But-“ “No dad, he’s planning on leaving nevertheless, won’t it be better if you make the process a happier one for him” ___ pleads and her father takes a deep breath.

“If he leaves right now it’s going to make the monarchy look weak, worse homophobic” her father says in a small voice and ___ sighs taking a seat.

“Then let’s not word it as him leaving the royal family, just him continuing to pursue his business and life. We never expected this to happen, our family had a very low probability, we have lived our lives so far as if this was never going to happen to us. Put that out, ask people to be kind as you let your son live out the life he wants to” ___ says and her father nods in agreement with her.

“Why did you come to me with this rather than your mother?” Mr Min asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Because I came to you in the past about him and you didn’t take me seriously and things turned pretty sour. Because I wanted to give you a chance to be a better father to Yoongi” this time he does let the guilt show on his face and ___ can see it very clearly.

“It still isn’t a great look for us, one of the children leaving the royal family even before your mother is coronated” Mr Min says and ___ sighs with aggravation, this is not a winning game, some body has to lose and she’s going to make sure it’s not going to be Yoongi.

“Dad, have you seen the articles written about him already? Have you seen the kind of articles written about me. We’ve been living our lives as tho we were never a part of the royal family and all of sudden you want us to be royals. You married into this, you chose this, we didn’t” ___ has tried to not let the articles get to her, but it’s starting to.

“You were born into this, this is your birth right” He states boldly, getting agitated himself. ___ knows arguing is going to get them nowhere.

“If you mother and I were to let him leave, what would we get in return?” “A chance to fix your relationship with your son” ___ answers but by the look on his face she knows it’s the wrong one.

“I have a proposition, if, hypothetically, we were to agree to let him leave, you in turn would comply and agree with all the tasks, duties and asks that come with being a royal princess, no debating, absolutely no arguing” Mr Min knows his son is difficult and doesn’t always agree, but he also knows that her daughter will fight things to no end if she doesn’t want to do it.

“So, Yoongi’s freedom will cost mine” “Absolutely not, I’m not taking away your freedom, I just want a conformation from you that all the tasks, duties and decisions that come with securing your position as the royal princess, you’ll do them with all of your heart” he may frame it differently all he wanted, but it was still one’s freedom for the cost of another’s.

“I don’t understand why you want me to agree to this, do you really think I’m not capable of being a great fucking royal princess” ___’s getting agitates, all this talk of tasks and duties is pissing her off a bit.

“Because ___, I know that you’re mad, I know you’re so angry at this twist of fate and I know that seeing your brother walk away from this will make you want to as well, and I absolutely can’t allow that” he can read his daughter pretty well, and the crossing of arms were a clear indication of her trying to not be angry.

“So, in return, you want me agree to all the ideas and decisions that you’ll want to make for me in the future, correct” ___ finally words it and Mr Min has a guilty look on his face as he nods a yes.

“I can do that for my brother”

The father and daughter are late to the press meeting and heads turn to them as they take seats in the family room.

“What have the two of you been up to?” ___’s mom asks and her father answers before she can. “___ just wanted me to look over her termination contract, everything is in proper shape and good to go”

“Okay, now before we start with this, I just want to say a few things, I know that last few weeks have been difficult and unexpected. But I am grateful to have you all by my side, my sons and daughters and especially my husband, you all have rallied around me and helped me navigate through this difficult time. I never expected to be the Queen, it was supposed to be my brother, then Eugene and their family so forth. I am not prepared for this role, I may be immensely educated but yet I am not ready for this. But I am going to need you all to fill in everywhere that I am lacking and I hope that we’re all able to serve our birthright as the members of the royal family” the queen says with a stern voice, she’s in much better shape than she was a few weeks ago.

“Thank you, your majesty, for the words, we’ll all be keeping those in our minds. I am Kim Sera, head of the press office for the Queen’s office, but right now, due to the situation, my office will be working for the entire royal family. For now, the country and the family is in mourning for the tragic loss that we’ve faced, the media is being soft with us, but as many of you do know, they have not been so. We’re in the process of dropping your US citizenships, and conversations around this have been bubbling already. With every piece of word that’s spoken by you, every action, the American-ness needs to not be there, absolutely no talking to the press or citizens in English, only and only Korean” the woman in a sharp blue suit says and a lot of what she’s saying is worrying Yoongi.

“For each of you, I have a file of what encompasses as royal duties for you. There are allotments based on your previous work, role in the family and most importantly the age of the country that resonates with you. Have a look at it, understand what your duties are and most importantly, if you have any special interests that you wish to venture into, we’d be happy to facilitate it” she continues talking and ___ sits up straight as an assistant hands her a thick file.

Ms Kim goes on and on about do and don’t what brands they can and can’t wear, what their social media’s are going to look like, boundaries with people they knew previously and much more invasive topics. ___ tunes in again as New York is mentioned again.

“As per the Queens recommendation, Princess Haein and Princess ___ along with a team will be flying to New York to facilitate the move process, all the possible arrangements have been made. They are scheduled to leave this Thursday and return a week after, please have a look at your security protocol for being abroad” Ms Kim says and another file in handed to ___.

“This is all from my end for now, I’ll be back with more details on your royal duties. Any questions for now?” Ms Kim asks and it’s just a room of blank faces who have to digest a lot of information. She just nods, bows and leaves with the rest of her team.

“Haein remember to take the codes of all our safes, I don’t have a list of all the jewellery but there are these specific earrings that I do need for my first appearance” the queen asks and Haein nods, already taking notes.

“I’ve arranged a real estate agent to sell our apartment in the city, have you both decided what to do with yours?” Wonik asks, looking specifically at their mother. Their New York City apartment was very precious to the family, they grew up there, the Queen really came into her own in that house.

“Let’s just keep it for now, we have decided to keep all our assets as is for now” their father answers and the queen nods with a conflicted look on her face.

“Have you had dinner yet?” a voice booms from the door and Yoongi turns around to see his mother standing in his doorway.

“I haven’t, I’m not hungry” Yoongi answers sitting up straight and putting away his laptop immediately. Theres this tension in the Queens eyes as she takes a seat on the bed besides him.

“You don’t eat a lot, you’ve gotten so thin” she says and Yoongi chuckles, looking up for a second, every time he sees her, he just sees how similar they look.

“How’s work been? Are they able to manage without you?” she asks and Yoongi goes back to the mental notes he’s taken for this exact talk.

“Busy, hectic, but they’ve been managing, barely” Yoongi says and the queen nods in understanding.

“I really liked the last song that you worked on, Moonlight. I read that you wrote and produced it” he’s caught off guard by this, and doesn’t do well with hiding his surprised face.

“Most of the music you work on is rap and pop which I don’t understand, but that ballad is beautiful” she continues talking and there’s this feeling of approval that Yoongi is feeling that he didn’t even know he could.

“I didn’t know you listened to music I work on” Yoongi says and his mother just nods as she rubs her hands together.

“I’m sorry” she mutters and a tear escapes her eye and it shakes Yoongi up, not expecting any of this.

“We could have been better parents to you, been more supportive, more loving” she says as she looks at him intensely and that’s what gets Yoongi teary eyed too. He doesn’t know what to say, he barely talked to his mother in the last 7 years, it’s like he’s forgotten how to.

“The lyrics you write are so full of hurt and agony, it breaks my heart” she keeps talking as she wipes her tear and reaches for her son’s hands. There’s a thick silence as she brushes his rough hands, she wonders why they’re so rough.

“But I don’t want this estrangement between us anymore, it physically hurts me when I can’t muster up the courage to pick up the phone and ask you how you are, if you’ve eaten, wish you a happy birthday” a sob escapes her mouth as she thinks back to all the time she’s missed out on. Yoongi wants to say something, comfort his mother, but all he does is stay frozen as a few more tears trail down his cheeks.

“Do you hate us now, have we damaged this relationship past a point of repair?” she asks and Yoongi can feel her eyes on him, for a moment he lifts his head. The sincerity and sorrow on her face is evident and he had to bite his lip to stop a sob.

“No,” his voice is small as he lets go of her hand and stands up to get the two of them some tissues. He sits back, a bit closer as he watches his mother wipe away tears and try and compose herself.

“Now, I know you wanted to talk to your father and I together, but I wanted to come and talk to you myself in an attempt to be a better mother and queen” she stops talking for a second to wipe off the last of tears.

“I discussed with your father and I hope that you like this proposition as well. As you know, members of the royal family aren’t allowed to have businesses and work other than their royal duties. And I understand and realise the hard work and years you’ve put in building your music label. So, I would be happy to let you continue your work in New York.” She says and a sense of ease washes over Yoongi.

“In order for you to do that, you’d unfortunately not anymore be a part of the royal family or be in line for the throne” she continues and Yoongi nods with understanding.

“I was going to ask you both for the exact same thing, your blessing to exit the royal family” Yoongi confesses with a faint smile on his face, grateful for how things are working out.

“But you’ll still be a part of our family, and I want you to be a part of lives, be our son, brother and uncle” she says and Yoongi nods aggressively.

“Would it be okay if this announcement came out in a few months, if I do it right now it would look like the monarchy is weak” “Of course, and I am sorry too, for making your job much harder, there is probably going to be speculation about this, articles about me and who I choose to love” there’s a strain in his voice as he says the last part.

“That’s the least of my worries,” she says and both their eyes focus on his phone that is lighting up on his phone, she is particularly focused on the picture man he’s hugging on his lockscreen.

“This brings me to the last thing I wanted to discuss” she says and Yoongi sits up straight once again, not remembering anything else they had to discuss.

“We’ve decided instead of selling our brownstone we gift it to you so that you live there and I’m assuming here, with him” she says as she points to his lockscreen. Yoongi is once again flustered and at a loss of words.

“It’s too generous mom, and you love that home” Yoongi argues and the queen smiles, she’s feeling her son ease around her a bit.

“Yes, and now it’s yours, this is my way of keeping it in the family. It’s a beautiful house that you now get to make it into your home. Plus, it’s so much better for security, we had all kinds of systems installed and I want you to be safe and happy, in a big beautiful house.” She retorts and Yoongi huffs crossing his arms.

“I’ll have to talk to him, I can’t just make this decision on my own” “Of course, but you guys deserve this, it’ll definitely earn you some brownie points with your boyfriend” she jokes and this is all a bit too shocking to Yoongi right now.

“When will I see you again? You promised to teach me how to paint” Jia cries into Yoongi’s shoulder as he crouches down to be at her level. Yoongi can’t help but coo at her whining niece.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise. We’ll paint and play with your tea set an entire afternoon” Yoongi promises as he brushes her hair out of her face. Jia looks at his face for a second, trying to see if he’s lying to her. Softly, she extends her pinkie for a promise and Yoongi gladly does as she says.

“Sweetheart, he’ll be back soon” Wonik says as he softly picks up her daughter and holds her close to his chest as she still has an unhappy look on her face. Yoongi looks at his brother and they can’t look at each other in the eyes still, it’s still very awkward.

“You take care, have you hired a security team?” this is the best Wonik can come up with and for a brief moment it warms Yoongi’s heart.

“You too and yes I have, I’m going to be fine, nothing to worry about” Yoongi says as he walks away from his brother to say good bye to his parents.

His mother has the same sad look she had the other day in his room while his father is still stoic as usual. Yoongi just bows to him as hugs his mother, she’s clutching onto him quite tightly.

“Call me often, send me pictures, write less sad songs and eat well, you got it?” there’s almost a hint of threatening in her tone, like she’s ordering this as the queen.

“Got it, take care” he mumbles as he pulls away from her. With a solemn look he turns around and takes a seat in the car where ___ and Haein are already seated.

“So, who’s ready for a fun week of packing” ___ says as the car pulls out from the driveway. There are a few reporters clicking away as they make their way to the main road. Nobody still used to the constant paparazzi.

“So, I have a game plan, I take up our place, it should take two days, meanwhile, you get done with yours. The parents place should take three days at maximum if we’re both there to look over it. For the two free days, I’ll go and say goodbye to the people and office and meet up a few friends. ___ you remember to break up with your boss/boyfriend, it shouldn’t take more than two days right?” Haein looks at ___ very seriously and ___ has a very incredulous look on her face.

“Yes, two days are quite enough to breakup with my boss/boyfriend” ___ voice is dripping with sarcasm and Haein just smiles coyly.

“What were you even thinking sleeping with your boss, what’s he like 33, what is he even doing dating a 21-year-old” Yoongi asks and ___ groans burying her head in her hands.

“He’s 29 and he’s British and very handsome and so so good in bed, do I have to break up with him” ___ asks and all she hears is scoffs.

“Yes and don’t sleep with him, you aren’t Sarah anymore, you’re Princess ___ now, you represent the monarchy” Yoongi answers and Haein chuckles in agreement.

“That’s very rich coming from a former member of the royal family” ___ retorts and Yoongi gives her a very stern look.

“Sass me all you want but your choice of men is still trash”

The apartment seems bigger with no furniture and just big packed boxes. ___ sits on the kitchen counter as she drinks wine directly from the bottle, she’s already donated all her dishware. She’s online reading another article about her past boyfriends, they’re all oddly all similar looking. ___’s not used to reading about her like this, people speculating who all she’s dated based on her social media history, which is now all gone.

The bell rings and she springs off to open the door, she knows exactly who’s on the other side. She takes a moment to compose herself before she swings the door open.

“Hey” “Hello, Princess ___” Aiden responds sarcastically as she lets him in, this is no going to be easy.

“So, it was just a chill Monday morning for me, I was looking forward to my girlfriend being back in town, suddenly there’s a NDA from your lawyers, a lot of ambiguous language that basically translated to me never being able to publicly talk about my “relationship” with you” Aiden spills out the second she shuts the door, he’s been holding onto this for a while.

“So, technically we have never dated? I’m just your boss that you had a close professional relationship with�� Aiden continues as ___ massages her head.

“Aiden, this is out of my hands, I’ve been ordered by my press team to do this” ___ says and Aiden scoffs, he takes a moment to look around the empty apartment, where they’ve spent many nights together.

“Don’t hide behind it-“ “Aiden I am not hiding behind it, I lost important and loving people of my family over a month ago, my entire life has been turned upside down, people in the press are calling me a slut because I dared to date people in college, the future that I looked forward to now looks dreadful, my life is not what it was a month ago and all I’m trying to do is take the right steps to not destroy my family and the monarchy. Don’t you think all this is also hurting me, don’t you think that I didn’t want to do this but have to for the greater good?” ___’s yelling all the things that have been frustrating her for a while now, things she hasn’t been able to dwell on yet.

Aiden is silent as he watches her huff with anger. “Just sign the NDA, as a parting gift to me” ___ says and Aiden takes a deep breath, not saying what he wants to.

“Why are you going along with all this nonsense, you’re a smart woman, snap out of this princess fantasy” Aiden speaks and it’s the final straw for her.

“No, I am a dumb woman who wants to play dress up for the rest of my life, cut ribbons and make insignificant speeches, for the rest of my life I want to be a public figure that people get to ridicule and speculate about. Is that what you want to hear Aiden” the tears she’s been holding back for a while finally escape her as the new reality is dawns.

Aiden walks closer but ___ stays firm, she’s had enough of this, she’s tired. “I thought what we had was real, I am definitely in love with you and tell me you don’t love me, because I know you Sarah” Aiden tries the gentle approach this time.

“We are done Aiden, just sign the NDA” ___ asks with a soft voice and she can see the he’s hurt, it’s evident in his eyes.

“I already did, I sent them to your lawyers before I came here” that’s the last thing he says before he slams the door on his way out.

Yoongi is jolted awake with the bell ringing and simultaneous banging on the door. His eyes barely open as he looks through the peep hole to check if it’s another reporter and give them an earful for waking them up at 1 am. It’s someone else but they’re still going to get an earful from him.

“You were supposed to be here for dinner, what took you so long” Yoongi asks ___ and then looks at Namjoon standing just a few steps behind her.

“She was drinking at her place and waiting for her ex to come over” Namjoon answers for her and ___ just sighs pushing past her boyfriend.

“Okay, what’s in that bag?” Yoongi asks pointing to the bag she’s carrying to the kitchen. ___ doesn’t answer, instead she rummages through a few drawers.

“Ice cream, snacks and cigarettes” Namjoon answers for ___ once again but she just nonchalantly takes out a big tub of ice cream and starts eating it. The two men watch her stuff her face with chocolate chip ice cream and exchange looks with each other.

“Namjoon, you go and get some sleep, I’ve got it from here” Yoongi says and Namjoon just nods and leave. Yoongi watches ___ for a whole minute as she continues to eat ice cream like a sugar depraved child.

“___ you want to talk about it?” Yoongi asks as he walks over to her. ___ just mumbles a no as she takes another spoonful, he sighs and gets her a glass of water.

“Honey?” A voice booms from one of the bedroom and Yoongi sighs as he walks closer to their room.

“I’m downstairs, ___ just came home” Yoongi answers as he quietly contemplates what to do. He’s deep in thought watching his sister when he hears footsteps.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jimin asks with a groggy voice as ___ removes a tub of strawberry ice cream, finding the chocolate to be too over powering.

“She broke up with her boyfriend” Yoongi answers as he lays his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, he’s had a long few days himself.

“You go back to sleep, you have work in the morning. I’ll deal with this” Jimin says seeing how Yoongi can barely keep his eyes open.

“Are you sure?” “Positive” “Okay, but absolutely no drinking” “I promise”

“So, you wanna smoke a joint with me and eat ice cream after?” Jimin asks and ___ nods finally putting down her spoon.

“It is ridiculous that you’re taking two suitcases full of trader joes snacks” Yoongi comments as he steps out the car on the tarmac. A long line of luggage is being put into the private jet, finally packing up this New York chapter.

“If we had more space, I would have taken a lot more” ___ didn’t care if she was paparazzied shopping at trader joes, she needed her fix.

“I can just send you a care package anytime you want, I can send you all the snacks you want, whenever you want” Yoongi’s tells and ___ smiles just for a brief moment.

“Can I not go, just stay here and ignore the life that is waiting for me in Seoul” ___ whines as she locks her arm with Yoongi.

“Come on, it’s going to be an interesting challenge. You were looking for a challenge like this just few months ago, this is universes weird and cruel way of presenting it” Yoongi has been choosing to deal with death in their family with sarcasm so far and people don’t love it.

“The press team wants me to go to college, make me more relatable to the youth” the file that the press team sent her a few days ago has been bothering her ever since she read it.

“College is fun, isn’t college in Korea mostly drinking and going out, that’s right up your alley” the sarcasm doesn’t seem to be working so far on ___ but Yoongi loves the annoyed look she gives him.

“The worst part of that press file was a timeline of my life, apparently, I’m supposed to start dating someone with the intentions of marriage by 2023, get married by 2025 and have my first child by 2027. The worst of it all, I can’t just keep dating someone because mom disapproves of them because apparently, she’s the queen now” ___’s using sarcasm to hide the actual horror she felt by reading that file.

“Well, if it all gets too much, fly to New York and smoke pot with my boyfriend and then lie about it to me. You can always do that” Yoongi accuses ___ with a stern tone and she just sighs as they stand in front of the flight stairs.

“Jimin promised to not tattle on me” “You both were high out of your mind last night watching tv and shouting at the Bachelor for giving the rose to the wrong person, he didn’t have to tell me” Yoongi states with a straight smile as he recalls being awoken by laughter multiple times last night.

“I was going through a lot” “Yes, but the invitation still stands, pot and otherwise” Yoongi says as he pulls in his younger sister into a tight hug. He is truly going to miss ___ showing up at their apartment at drunk at night.

“I love you, I’m going to miss you so much and you better take good take of yourself” Yoongi mutters into her hair and ___ nods clutching onto his very tight as well.

“Love you too, you take care too, make me lots of money” ___ jokes as she pulls away from him, her desperate attempt of keeping it light right now.

“Take care Haein” Yoongi says to a very tired Haein who smiles politely as she reaches over for a side hug.

“Jia has gotten attached to you, she’s going to ask to talk to you all the time now” Haein remarks and Yoongi giggles thinking of his four year old niece.

“Just let her, I’ve gotten attached too”

With a tinge of reluctance, ___ straps in the seat belt as they begin take off. New York City truly looks like the city of dreams, more so because now it’s just a part of ___’s imaginary dreams.

2024

The ballroom is light with soft yellow lights and jazz music as prominent people continue to file in. It’s late January and tonight people have gathered for the third coronation anniversary for the Queen. These events are less about celebrations and more of a networking event, with people in their fanciest outfits.

Last four years have been a shock to the system for everyone in the Min family. The members struggled to find their place as public figures. Every member was still fumbling around with their positions, making it look like they’ve got it together. Wonik, Haein and Jia are by far the favourites, constantly being photographed out and about as family, and Haein being pregnant with their second child is definitely helping. The Queen has been the best of all with her eloquent speeches and a nation rallying behind her, her husband doing absolutely everything to help her in the background. Yoongi laid low for the initial few months after he left, there are always articles stopping a formal royal and his boyfriend but they bother him less and less every day, his label has absolutely taken off, him on the verge of releasing an album himself.

 ___ compared to her family, struggled quite a lot to fit into her role. The few initial months of royal duties were difficult for her, she’s a naturally outspoken and opinionated woman and people don’t like that a lot. Things eased for her quite a lot as she enrolled for a masters in international studies, the press now lovingly calls her the number 1 campus crush. Her existence as a royal was to appear like a poised, educated woman in her mid-twenties so that she was desirable to all the men in her country, how vain.

She stands behind the rest of her family to make an entrance, she used to feel nauseous coming to events like these, but she’s found the right amount of small talk and always a glamorous dress. Theres clapping and bowing as they enter, a few minutes of formality later and everyone goes back to their drinking and celebrating.

“It’s unusually cold for January isn’t it” ___ tells to a man who cornered her right as she walked in. Not that she was disappointed to, he’s a handsome young man, who like most people in this room comes from immense amounts of wealth and privilege.

“Yes, January always makes me miss Chicago-“ “The cold makes you miss a much colder city?” ___ asks with amusement as she takes the smallest sip of champagne.

“Contrary to what people assume, Seoul is much colder in the winter, and with my family around it gets just so much more icier” the man says with a very straight face and ___ laughs out loud, catching the attention of a few people around them.

“Oh, I like you, you’re funny” ___ confesses and the man stands there with a charmed smile.

“How has it been for you your royal highness, you must miss New York” the man asks and ___ stifles a scowl as she takes a much bigger sip of her drink.

“It’s all a faint memory now, Seoul and Korea are my present and future” she says just as instructed my Ms Kim, yes, they had pointers to talk about when New York was mentioned.

“I read that interview about your hidden food gems in Seoul, your press team really fed you some good ones” the man says and he watches the look of awe on the princess’s face.

“I didn’t know I came off that transparent in my interviews” ___ question is a bit pointed but her smile says otherwise.

“You don’t, but as someone who’s been media trained my whole life, I can see the signs” the man confesses as he polishes off his drink, so does ___. She’s out of a response and it’s like the universe knew of it as Ms Kim clears her throat, bringing both their attention to her.

“If I could talk to Princess ___ for a few moments, we have something urgent to discuss” she states and the man passes ___ a charming smirk before taking a few steps away from them and asks her to come find him later.

“You can socialize with the grandson of the Samsung chairman all you want but don’t go falling in love with him” she states and ___ chokes on her drink, still not used to how straightforward she is.

“Now, I know this could wait till tomorrow, but I’m just too excited about it” the more Ms Kim talks the more confused ___ gets but she just continues to wordlessly follow her. They stop right by a man in a grey suit as he continues to talk to Wonik. ___ knows what this is all to well by now, he’s another man she’s going to be introduced to as a romantic partner and things are not going to work out, again.

Ms Kim clears her throat once again, and the men turn around promptly. ___ was expecting another handsome man who has been a tremendous success in field but also comes from a great lot of privilege, what she didn’t expect was Kim Taehyung.

“Princess ___, I wanted to introduce you to your new press secretary, Mr Kim Taehyung.” The words are ringing in ___’s ears and she doesn’t do much to hide the shocked look on her face as the man bows to her.

“Since your royal duties would get exceedingly demanding soon enough, I thought it would be a perfect time for you two to become acquainted with each other” Ms Kim looks at ___ expectedly and all she does is extend her hand. A warm, stiff hand shakes her and it’s almost like she’s being shaken back to reality.

“It’s a true honour for me Ma’am” Taehyung finally speaks up, his voice, deep just as she remembered. ___ just nods, afraid she’s going to say the wrong thing.

“I’ll just let the two of you talk, get to know each other. Prince Wonik, lets go and make those introductions now” Ms Kim is gone as swiftly as she came and once again ___ is standing in silence.

___ looks around, hoping there aren’t any eyes on them and swiftly gets a hold of Taehyung’s sleeve as she finds them a quiet corner.

“Namjoon, I just need some privacy and I bet my new press secretary isn’t looking to kill me, are you?” ___’s voice is agitated as she holds back the women’s room to restrict her bodyguards entry.

“I assure you there is going to be no killing happening tonight” Taehyung mutters as he stands behind the princess, not entirely believing in what he’s saying.

“Yes, so just make sure no one comes in, we need to discuss a few things” Namjoon begrudgingly takes those orders as a door is slammed on his face. The moment ___ turns around, Taehyung can notice how red her eyes are, maybe it’s the alcohol, most likely it’s the anger she’s feeling against him.

“You’re not taking this job” ___ announces as she takes a few steps forward, Taehyung just moves backwards, he should have expected some of this anger.

“I’m sorry, I would have called to ask you first but you changed your number and I’ve already signed a contract” Taehyung tries to reason and ___ finally stops in her tracks.

“Contracts are broken all the time, and you and I both know that I can’t have someone who I used to date working for me” ___ says calmly, Taehyung just sighs as she crosses his arms.

“But we didn’t date that long” he finally speaks after a long stretch of silence and ___ finally looks up at him. He is right, they didn’t. ___ didn’t think that that would hurt, but it did a little bit, how could a old wound hurt.

“Yes, we just dated for three months, I told you who I really was, what my plans for the future were and you dumped me out of nowhere” ___’s voice may be soft, but her words are harsh.

“Because you had plans to live in the US, I wanted to return to Korea, I simply did not want us to invest in a relationship that would just end in a whole lot of hurt. I didn’t know that your life would have these turn of events” Taehyung states and ___’s scoff is very loud in this room.

___ hasn’t said something for a whole minute and it’s starting to terrify Taehyung. He takes a few small steps towards her, this time she is the one walking backwards. He can see how distressed she is just by how tightly she’s gripping her arms.

“Why did you say yes to this job?” “Because it is a pivotal career move for me, how rare is it for a role such as this to be offered to a 30-year-old rather than a 50-year-old, this kind of experience can set me up for life” ___ does get an answer but it doesn’t make her feel better one bit.

“I don’t come with a background and pedigree like the rest of the people in that ballroom, people haven’t offered me jobs because I’m related to someone, it has all been because I work hard and get the necessary results.” Taehyung’s compassioned words finally force ___ to look up.

“Anything that was there between us was, god, eight years ago. I will understand if you don’t want me to take this job, but please reconsider it for a minute” Taehyung pleads and he can see it working because of the soft look on her face.

“Okay” ___ mutters softly as she moves past him, stopping right by the mirror to fix her appearance before they leave.

“Okay? Oh my god thank you, you are not going to regret this ___” Taehyung has a big smile on his face as he turns around as well, but the sharp look on ___’s face makes it disappear instantly.

“I’d assume my press secretary would know the proper protocol to address me is either your royal highness or ma’am” she speaks and Taehyung once again takes a step back.

“I’m sorry ma’am, that was the last mistake I make” he apologizes as he watches the princess go back to fixing her lipstick. He’s feeling fear and excitement for what lies ahead, but for now, he chooses to focus on the excitement.

February in Seoul is feeling colder compared to what Thailand felt like. ___ rolls into the palace still in a summer dress and sunglasses and earns a few looks just in a few seconds. She’s too relaxed from here vacation to care.

She would have gone straight to her apartment, but she had been asked my Ms Kim and her press secretary to make this stop, probably some bad news they wanted to share while she still had her vacation buzz.

“You summoned me?” ___ asks as she plops her handbag on the table, she’d been in this office way too frequently for her liking in just the last month.

“Your royal highness, how was the vacation?” Taehyung asks in the nicest tone he can muster up while he takes away all the files from her reach.

“Amazing, I think I’m still drunk” ___ boasts with a wide sarcastic smile as Taehyung nods awkwardly.

“Well, Ms Kim and I just wanted to discuss some of your upcoming royal activities and the pictures of you that have been circulating online” Taehyung whispers the last part because he can see the sharp look coming.

“What pictures, the one of me drinking, or the one of me smoking with my friends, or the public favourite, the one of me in a bikini at the beach” “The ones of you smoking ma’am” says a voice from behind her and she knows the voice too well by now.

“Have you had a few strong drinks Ms Kim, the urge to smoke after them is crazy and let me tell you, you would do so much better after a few strong drinks” ___ says as she turns back to type something on her phone.

“That may be your opinion ma’am but as a member of the royal family you can’t be paparazzied smoking-“ “If I may interrupt, the vacation pictures are actually pulling in positive opinions for Princess ___, the people like her more when she behaves like a college student, which she actually is” Taehyung speaks and the two women are looking at her, one more fiercely than the other.

“While I appreciate these theories Mr Kim, these opinions are not substantiated-“ “Actually they are, me and my team have been using this social listening tool and Princess ___ positive favours have been on a significant rise since the pictures came out” Taehyung came prepared with all the facts and figures and ___ won’t accept it but she is a bit charmed.

“And this lead me to a few more insights, rather than having the princess at business events for companies that were built a 100 years ago, how about we have her focus on the demographic that actually likes her” Taehyung continues talking as he picks up another file, which he now hands to both the people.

“The monarchy is seen as a positive figure by the people 50 and above and there has been a growing younger population that doesn’t see a need for it. Let the princess cover that demographic, they already like her” ___ has a small smile on her face as she watches the scowl on Ms Kim’s face grow.

“Highschool kids, people in college, young professionals, the population that lies within the age group of 15-35, these are the part of the population that the princess needs to be seen with rather than 70-year-old men who are chairmen to billion-dollar companies” Taehyung is speaking with a lot of conviction because he’s done his research on the topic but the unwavering look on Ms Kim’s face is still affecting him.

“Mr Kim, we have a structure in place, while you might have the figures, we can’t just go around changing the entire set up” Ms Kim says as she continues reading the files she’s been handed.

“I’m sorry but the more the princess goes to the events and duties you have been putting in for her, the worse press she’s been getting, I don’t think the structure has been working so far” Taehyung rebuttals and ___ is trying her best to hold in her gasp, some popcorn would make this perfect.

“The plan I have laid out, uses the princesses’ strengths to her favour rather than forcing her to pretend to be someone else. She is a charming, delightful person and I feel like the people deserve to fall in love with her rather than an uptight princess who’s out of touch” Taehyung is done speaking as he rests against the table and Ms Kim is showing just how flabbergasted she is.

“Alright, but I will have to have the queen’s press team approve of these new royal duties” Ms Kim is showing a lot of sass today and ___ is totally loving this.

“I already did a week ago and have received all the necessary approvals, the queen actually had a look and she was quite impressed” ___ looks at Taehyung who looks quite cocky and proud as he hands her a few more files.

“So, Ms Kim, what was it that you wanted to discuss with me after all” ___ asks as he looks up at a little bit upset Ms Kim. There haven’t been a lot of victories for ___ in the past few years but this one feels like a huge one.

“Nothing apparently, I’ll see you Mr Kim at the Queen’s briefing” “I’ll be there bring and early Ms Kim” the two of them watch Ms Kim walk out that office and ___ immediately erupts into cheers, so does Taehyung, and for a second of ill judgement they’ve about to hug each other when he pulls away and takes a step back.

“Oh my god, you did so good, sticking it to her so good” ___ continues the cheering as she sits back down, letting the awkward second just pass away.

“My motive was not to ‘stick it to her’, I did that because I could not stand another bad article being written about you” Taehyung says as he walks back behind his desk, maintaining the appropriate distance.

“But this is good, the stuff you have in there is the kind of work I will enjoy doing. The kind of work that makes me feel like a human being rather than a puppet” ___ is a little too excited as she goes back to the file, something she has not done in the past few years.

“I am glad you think that I’m doing a good job your royal highness” Taehyung feels a little relaxed as he sits back in his chair, Ms Kim could have very easily thrown out his weeks out work down the drain, but she didn’t.

“Now, if I remember correctly your third semester starts in three weeks” he asks as he opens up his calendar, now is when the real work starts.

“Yes” “Okay, we’ll ease in with the new demographic and will be starting off by you attending a celebratory party for a game company, they’re launching a new game and have invited young celebrities, influencer and young age reporters. I was able to pull a favour and get you an invite to the event” Taehyung talks and ___ has a concerned look on her face.

“You want me to attend a nerd event” “The game company is so popular with the demographic and most importantly, they don’t sexualize women in their games” Taehyung shares and the concerned look starts to go away.

“And another thing I really wanted to discuss, you really need a stylist preferably someone who comes with a makeup team” “Do you not think I have good style Mr Kim” ___ asks and he knows he should have worded this differently.

“That is not what I meant, you’ll be doing a lot more public appearances now and each will require a specific look and I just want people to be falling in love with you and we like it or not, it starts with your appearance” Taehyung once again thinks he might have misspoken but the small smile on her face is saying otherwise.

“Alright, so let’s get me a stylist and have people falling in love with me”

A massive hotel room was booked and the top stylists around the city were asked to come and present their ideas. The minute they heard that they were presenting to the princess, all their ideas were centred around royalty and elegance, nothing too original about it.

“If I see one more ostentatious golden down, I’m going to throw a fit” ___ mumbles to Namjoon as the next designer continues to set up their boards and presentation.

The person who’s setting up for the next designer giggles as ___ continues to complain. This catches both Namjoon and her attention.

“Hoseok, was it, does your bosses presentation also have a collection of ostentatious gowns?” ___ asks as she sits up straight, and the man in a very green outfit just nods as a looks around scared.

“I had a few better ideas but he’s a senior and I didn’t want to be fired” “If you were to style me, what would it look like” ___ is genuinely intrigued because of how boring this morning has been.

“I made a few mood board for you, but for the Golden Games event, I had a more glamourous dress in mind, something with cut outs and more flowy rather than structures, something that shows off your figure and personality rather than hiding it” Hoseok speaks as he hands ___ a iPad with very well designed mood boards. She continues to slide until she comes to the dress he’s talking about, and it’s shocking how much ___ likes it.

“The dress is Versace and I have contacts with the brand to be able to source the dress, for jewellery, since the dress is so loud, a pair of earrings from a local Korean brand called Sia, all of this can be sourced” He continues explaining and ___ is seeing her vision come to life for the first time.

“How much trouble would you be in if I wanted to hire you instead of your boss?” “So much, but it’s all worth it”

“What is wrong with you, why would you do that Ma’am” are the first words out Taehyung’s mouth as she walks into his office. ___ just scoffs as she takes a seat on the brown leather sofa, she’s come to find this sofa a bit more comfortable than she’d like to be.

“What do you think I did now Taehyung” “Why would you hire a junior stylist instead of the senior one, she has the kind of experience and contacts you need” Taehyung mutters as he massages his head, it’s been a long week, all he wants to do is go home.

“I liked him more, his style embodies my essence, plus he found me this super sexy dress and everyone else just wanted me to look like any other royal” ___ speaks and Taehyung finally looks up, she wonders what she said forced him to look up.

“See this is why I wanted you to hire a senior stylist, your outfits can’t be too outrageous, I had specific guidelines-“ “Taehyung, he is the one who enforces all of your anal requirements for me, no senior stylist will ever do it. And it’s not sexy in a way of being too revealing, but rather in a fitting and tasteful way” ___ is used to cutting of Taehyung and seeing the “Oh” look of realisation on his face.

“I assume you’ll be joining me for the event, picked out your finest suit?” ___ asks as she opens one of the mini water bottles, Taehyung’s noticed that she’s always needing a bottle of water or snack when she’s here, he’s arranged a small basket full of it.

“I have a personal thing that I can’t miss, but I’ll make sure to drop off the talking points for tomorrows Charity Gala” Taehyung has been quite literally buried with work, turns out doing a good job requires a lot of work.

“My first event as ___ with new approach for the new ‘demographic’ and you the chief manipulator of it all won’t be there, what’s the personal thing that is more important than your job?” ___ is a bit too sassy for 11 am, she’s had two coffees and no breakfast today.

“It’s my mothers first chemo appointment and I just want to be there, even if she doesn’t want me to” Taehyung knows he’s oversharing a bit, but being the oldest sibling and not talking about this with anyone else, it was bound to come out. The minute he looks up, he realises how guilt stricken his boss looks.

“I’m so sorry that I made a joke about that, of course you have to be there, make sure to leave early, and you don’t need to drop off the talking points for tomorrow, I’ll have someone pick it up” the worry in ___’s voice makes Taehyung smile a bit, it’s almost like he was wanting to someone to worry about him.

“Okay, but I’ll have Yena by your side, she’ll be at your place by 9, be ready by then. Also” he trails off as he sits up from his desk chair and picks up the report he’s been asked to hand her.

“I can’t fight Ms Kim, the Queen and your father on their need to find you a husband, I’ve gotten Ms Kim to agree that the most you’ll look for is a boyfriend with husband potential, so you’ll really need to get started with it. These are the options, I’d hope that you’d stick to this list” Taehyung hands ___ a thick file with a tiered list of potential partners. ___ sad for other reasons now.

“Can’t I just meet someone and fall in love with them naturally” “You are the royal princess ___ of the nation of korea, anyone you fall in love with first will be for strategic reasons to reaffirm the standing that the crown has with the people of our nation,” Taehyung repeats with a specific tone that Ms Kim uses and ___ just sighs as she stands up. For a second, their faces are mere inches from each other before Taehyung takes a step back and lets out a cough.

Years ago, she used to smell of flowers and spring, today she smells like vanilla and winter.

Everything about ___ is glowing, be it her hair, legs, dress, jewellery and even eyes. She has this glow she hasn’t had for years now and it’s a bit startling even to her. She’s quite used to public and private appearances like these, she knows her camera angles, which smiles the paparazzi like the most, what small talk do people like, but these always is this pit of nervousness in her stomach, but it’s gone as she looks at herself in the mirror.

Hoseok can see the glow, it’s glaringly obvious. It’s like the pit of nervousness has been transferred to his stomach, he knows just how make or break today’s outfit doing well is.

“Yena honey can you help me with these earrings” ___ asks as the makeup artists finishes with the lipstick.

“Let me” a voice booms by the door and no one in the room has to turn around to know who it belongs to. The entire room is scrambling to stand up and bow, but the queen just asks everyone to be at ease, she just wants to chat with her daughter.

“By the way mother, this is my new stylist Jung Hoseok, he’s the reason why I look so ravishing today” ___ brings Hoseok in the front as the rest of the team continues packing, done with making her look all pretty.

“Thank you, Mr Jung, ___ does look like she’s blooming” the queen’s compliment catches the two of them off guard. Soon the entire room is empty, with just the mother and daughter sitting by ___’s broken coffee table.

“Honey, you do look gorgeous, I haven’t seen you happy like this in a while” the queen says and ___ can’t help but show her a wide smile.

“This is your first event by yourself, all prepared?” “Yup, Taehyung quizzed me on my answers and I have flash cards for the small talk I’m sticking too. Hopefully I dazzle everyone tonight and the press finally writes something positive about me” ___ says as she fidgets with her earring, Hoseok warned her of how heavy they were, and it was already starting to get to her.

“You found a good partner with Taehyung, he really understands you” the passing statements from the queen has ___ thinking of Taehyung once again, he’s probably already at the hospital, she should text and check up on him.

“I’m sure you’ll be wonderful tonight, but that is not why I’m here tho. I got a call from Yoongi earlier today that he’s planning on going on a tour once he releases his first solo album. He wanted to ask my permission to schedule tour dates in Korea. Your father and I are unsure as it could go either ways from our perspective, I wanted to know your opinion on this” ___’s a little stunned by this, her opinion hasn’t really mattered to her family much, ever. ___ stands up to get some water, wanting to thing this through.

“I think him performing in Korea will be kinda great, it would show to the press and the people that even tho he’s not a royal yet, he’s still part of our family and always welcome here. Sure, there may be a few articles about him and Jimin, but we could easily divert that by me attending the concert with a few friends, even Wonik and Haein if they agree to it” ___ explains as she pours some sparkling water into a glass, she’s been on a strict diet for this dress and the soda craving doesn’t go away.

“I think so too, but your father is really worried about the bad press” “Mother we need to stop being so terrified of the press about this, Yoongi is gay, which is a completely normal arounds most of the first world country. We have to stop teetering around it like it’s a taboo subject. What is Yoongi has a boyfriend, someday, he may and a husband and are we still going to be so afraid of the negative press, would that stop you and father from attending his wedding” ___ speaks with the kind of composure that has her mother stunned, she’s finally coming into her own.

“You think they’re going to get married?” the queen asks and ___ rapidly nods her head, knowing she and Jimin had talked about this just a few weeks ago.

“Jimin found a ring in Yoongi’s office and he thinks he’s going to ask soon, Yoongi hasn’t talked to Jimin’s parents about it, but we think that he’s going to on their next trip to Korea, for the tour” ___ may be oversharing, but Yoongi would never tell her all this anyway.

“___, um, you think, Jimin’s going to want to ask for Yoongi’s hand?” ___ can see the guilt striken look on her mothers face, she doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Jimin’s already asked ___ for that.

Jungkook can feel his heart in his mouth, he’s nervous beyond words but in his suit and slicked hair he barely looks so. At important events like these, he remembers when the first game he put out around 5 years ago. He’s loved video games and as an overworked coder, he somehow still found time to put out his video game. The game didn’t make any noise for two years, but suddenly, one night it blew up. The past three years have been a whirlwind full of success, new beginnings, starting a company, making money beyond his imaginations and working more than he has ever before.

“All the last-minute checks for the event have been made, the cars have been sent for the VIP guests” Han tells Jungkook as he continues to adjust his cufflinks.

“The event company has informed me that the press has arrived and is waiting for the guests, taking in the delay from the proposed time for the unveil, you’ll go on stage at 10:05 and unveil the walkthrough for the new game at exactly 10:23. The walk-through ends at 10:28 and you end with a small thank you speech and get off stage for pictures with guests at 10:30. I have the list of the attendees that you have to absolutely take a picture with, do you want a reminder right now?” Han asks and Jungkook just nods a no, he opens his watch drawer and contemplates which one to wear tonight. The first Rolex may be the way to go but he could also wear his father’s watch for some good luck.

The drive to the event is filled with Han going over all the details but Jungkook has practically tuned him out, he’s more focused on what to do with his hands during pictures. A peace sign would be too dorky, crossing his arms may look too serious and hand in pocket may look weird with the jacket.

“So, I have arranged for you to greet all the guests as they go in for a photo op, this makes sure that you have face time with all of our most important guests” Han continues talking as they step out the car. Jungkook can see the beautifully set up venue, with the on-theme décor and paparazzi already waiting for it all.

“I’m going to go in and do some final checks with the event, why don’t you stay here, get some lip service with the press, most important of it all, stay on subject” Han leaves with one last bit of information and Jungkook just nods trying to muster all the confidence her can.

“Congratulations!!!” Mingyu hollers as he sees Jungkook right before going on stage. The two friends hug each other, first time tonight when Jungkook greets someone comfortably. They met ages ago, in high school and even tho Mingyu is a high-profile model, they’ve stayed close.

“I’m so nervous I may throw up” Jungkook mutters to his friend as he adjusts his suit, it’s right at that moment that there’s a loud commotion, and all the sudden, the press if focused elsewhere.

The two men silently try and focus in on the cause of it all, their eyes stay fixed as a woman with a glamorous golden dress and her shiny hair come into focus. She isn’t just any other woman, she’s princess ___, and that just makes Jungkook more nauseous.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” Mingyu mutters as the men continue to shamelessly stare as the princess walks closer to the event.

“Breathtaking” Jungkook can feel a few cameras on himself too, but he can’t help but look away. Everything about her grabs his attention, her smile, the flowy hair, the dress.

“Okay, she’s coming closer, I’ll go and smile for the cameras and see you inside” Mingyu leaves with one final tap on his friends back while Jungkook stays turned around, waiting for the princess to come closer. He contemplates if he should walk closer to greet here, and Han is tapping is shoulder before he decides.

“The royal protocol is you bow first, and the formal greeting is your royal highness and ma’am after that, go on, walk to her” Han instructs and Jungkook follows, suddenly right in front of her. He bows like instructed and so does she, ___ looks at her expectantly, and suddenly Jungkook’s forgotten how to speak.

“Congratulations Mr Jeon, now I haven’t played video games ever, but people in my office love playing yours after hours” ___ takes the lead and Jungkook can’t help but smile widely.

“Thank you, your royal highness, hopefully, the people in your office like this one as well” he says as they walk to the stage, at a very glacial stage.

“Oh don’t start with the your royal highness, call me ___, please” ___ says with a small smile, picking up her dress ever so slightly to walk better, the heels are definitely taxing.

“I’m not going to do that, my assistant may actually shoot me if I don’t follow the royal protocol, he’s briefed me on it a hundred times since your RSVP’d” Jungkook jokes and ___ can’t help be a bit charmed by his toothy smile.

“Oh, I don’t want to be the reason you get shot, on a very important day for you after all” the two of them have totally stopped by the stage for this conversation, disregarding all the cameras.

“He’s quite strict, right now, he’s probably accounting all the extra time we’ve taken up to talk and adjust the timeline for the rest of the event” Jungkook jokes, despite how nervous he is, he doesn’t want the princess thinking he’s not funny.

“Oh well, not to make his job too hard, I’ll go on stage and be pretty before you get into more trouble” ___ says as she takes a step back, but still not moving. He eyes go from his big bright eyes, to his many ear piercings, to his folded over shirt collar. Her instincts tell her to just reach and straighten it, but she smiles and indicates to it, suddenly all aware of the cameras.

Jungkook shyly nods as he fixes her collar, looking back at her. “Thank you for this, and coming here” “Thank you for inviting me, and come find me inside” she says as she walks away.

Han had been feeling breathless all day, he’s been working towards this for this last three months, and that was just the event. He thought he would almost faint the moment Jungkook misspoke during the presentation, but to his relief, his boss just laughed and continued on. As Jungkook gets off the stage, done with the formalities of it all, the dinner is served and he feels like he can finally breath again.

“Where am I seated for the dinner?” Jungkook asks as he unbuttons his suit jacket, if it were up to him, he would have removed it all together.

“With your family,” Han says as he leads Jungkook to the assigned table, they stop every now and then as people congratulate him.

“I’ll go and see my parents, but if you could find me a table on the princesses table, she asked me to come find her” Jungkook speaks with a small smile, when up on stage, he could see her very clearly in her golden dress, she listened very intently for someone who doesn’t play video games.

“I’ll see, Mingyu has been keeping her company so I’ll move him or ask her safety officer to move to the next table” the thought of Mingyu chatting her up suddenly has Jungkook a bit bothered, but before he can think more of it, his mother engulfs him in a warm hug.

“Have you taken your medicine?” Jungkook asks his father as the first course is being served. Han texted him that moving anyone is not possible right now, he’ll have to come and find her once dinner is over.

“I did, you need to stop worrying about me, and celebrate your success today” his father says with a gentle tap to his hand. Jungkook worries, constantly worries after the minor stroke his father had a few months ago.

His brother is busy talking to his wife, so are his parents and the sudden quite at the table forces Jungkook to look around. He sees a room full of the most important people to his and his country as they continue to chat away, the room is full of voices and constant sound of cutlery.

He sees his senior team as they discuss something, he sees a table full of influencers as they continue to be on their phone, the table full of his investors among the many tables around him. But he’s looking for one specific one that he just can’t spot yet.

“Who are you looking for?” Nari, his sister-in-law asks as the dessert is served. On a normal day, Jungkook would absolutely be attacking this dessert, but he just doesn’t have the appetite today.

“Princess ___” Jungkook answers honestly, he’s known Nari for years now, she’s not someone he can lie too. Nari giggles as she turns around in her seat, trying to spot the princess and she immediately does.

“She is quite dazzling, very royal. She doesn’t attend events like these, how did you even manage to invite her?” Nari asks as she takes a bite of tiramisu. Jungkook smiles as he thinking back to a letter that Han explained over a month ago.

“It’s a secret”

“I’m speaking at a college tomorrow, it’s a panel about a complicated topic that basically means how important it is for women to be in higher education” ___ shares with her new friend Kim Mingyu. Tonight she’s seated with Mingyu on one side and Namjoon on the other, there are other business people on the table that she hasn’t bother to talk to much. They had disappeared after dinner to socialize themselves.

“Wow, you’re getting your masters right?” Mingyu asks as he takes a sip of his champagne, now that the dinner is done, there’s a more causal feel in the banquet room, with free-flowing drinks and talk.

“Yes, that reminds me that I have to meet one of my professors about some study material he’s assigned” ___ shares as she nurses her second gin and tonic of the night. Her new friend chuckles before he drowns his drink entirely.

“I never went to college, I was scouted during high school. It happened at a game room that Jungkook and I were leaving. Jungkook was scouted too, but he had his eyes set on Seoul University” Mingyu shares and flashes of Jungkook in his double-breasted jacket and crinkling eyes as he smiles come back to her.

“That’s where I’m speaking tomorrow, Mr Jeon’s alma matter” “Mr Jeon?” a voice booms from behind them, its Jungkook with two drinks in his hand.

“Namjoon scoot over, let Mr Jeon sit” ___ nudges her security officer who has a very straight face that scares Jungkook, he just smiles shyly as he takes the seat next to the princess.

“No Mr Jeon, just Jungkook your royal highness” “Well, that can only happen when it’s ___ instead of your royal highness Mr Jeon” Mingyu watches this banter and in a blink of a second, it’s almost like he’s invisible, not that he’s complaining. He’s observed his best friend look at the princess with stars in his eyes all evening, still Mingyu isn’t sure it’s being he’s enchanted by her or because she’s a princess.

“Actually no, it has to be your royal highness or ma’am for him, there’s way too much press here for him to address you casually” Namjoon interjects and ___ has truly never gotten over Namjoon being the straight man.

“You see ma’am, you come with rules that I just can’t look past, now I’m afraid he’s going to shoot me” Jungkook jokes taking a double take to the very muscular man to his other side, a man who can definitely take him down.

“But I am younger than you, ma’am makes me feel middle aged” ___ complains as she reaches over for one of the glasses of champagne Jungkook brought over. She’s breaking the two-drink rule tonight.

“Ma’am is for respect, your royal highness you are third in line to the royal throne” Namjoon interjects again and ___ wants to reach over and punch him, but she knows it’s only going to hurt her.

“Can we step away for a moment, for a smoke maybe” ___ asks Jungkook and he’s immediately pushing his chair back to stand up while Namjoon mutters a no.

___ has been in this hall for another gala before, her special talent has become finding hiding spots from the crowd all around the country. She’s walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook as they take up the stairs to the balcony. ___’s about to look back to check if he’s still there and at that moment she wobbles in the heels for the first time tonight.

“Careful” Jungkook’s voice is just a notch above a whisper as his hand comes around her waist to steady ___, through the cut around her dress, she can feel his warm hands on her cold waist. The warm feeling on her waist and suddenly all over her body makes her wobble again and Jungkook just chuckles keeping his hand firmly on her waist for support.

___ almost sighs out loud when his hand drops the second, she’s at the top of the staircase, but she just picks up the pace and tries to open the loud, creaky door as quietly as she can. Jungkook stands back for a second as he takes it all it, the princess standing against the railing with a wide smile as she turns to look back at him. Jungkook knows he’s being impulsive, there are a lot more people back in the room whom he hasn’t had the chance to talk to yet, important people that he needs around for business.

There’s almost no talking but Jungkook can read ___ pretty well, she has a different look now than she had back in the room, back there it was more glamorous but now it’s more natural. Jungkook watches as she slips off her heels and sigh with relief, she looks a bit shorter next to him now and he has to look away to smile and try and control his blushing.

“My brother has threatened me to stop smoking, so I have stopped for a while, but it’s still a good excuse to get away” ___ looks forward into the beautiful garden as she speaks, she can spot some roses and they look lovely in the winter night.

“I did too, my father had a stroke a few months ago and it set me straight” Jungkook answers as she leans against the railing, turning towards her ever so slightly. It’s mid-February so it’s still quite cold in Seoul, which is quite evident with the way the princess keeps rubbing her arms and shiver. Without much thought, Jungkook slips off his jacket and places it on her shoulder, the sudden movement causing her to look up at him.

“Is your father doing well now?” “I have forced my parents to get a dog which in turn forces them to go on walks twice a day, so there’s some progress” Jungkook remembers the day he showed up with a small puppy in his hands, that has for a record been the most his mother has been mad at him.

“Creative problem solving, so you do have the qualities that make you this successful” ___’s tone isn’t the one of humour, but that of fact stating and it validates Jungkook very much.

“Honestly, I mostly write the code still, my brother is the CEO because he’s actually run businesses for years and went to business school” Jungkook explains like he does to most people, he doesn’t see himself as this successful founder most of the times, just an ordinary coder.

“That is why you aren’t on my list, you have to be a CEO or be part of a family business dynasty to be on my list” ___ had been handed a list customized for today right as she sat in the car, so far she’s spotted five people from that list at this event.

“A list?” Jungkook asks with curiosity, the princess confuses him, he wants to ask her many more questions.

“A panel of people consisting of the queen, my father, their press secretary, my press secretary and a few other advisors have devised a list of prospect husbands for me, or at least boyfriends as I fought back. Me being a 25-year-old single princess doesn’t sit right with a lot of people, especially that panel” ___ answers in a very matter of fact way, these things are a fact of life for her, but the shocked look on Jungkook’s face is saying otherwise.

“They have a spreadsheet with a life plan for me with multiple routes of actions, actions that help me establish my position with the people and also help the crown. But the most prevalent plan is me having a husband by 27, a child by 30, because even if I am a princess, I am still someone who has to be a wife and mother” Jungkook can sense some bitterness in the princesses’ words, but he is dumbfounded on what to say, which is very clear on his face.

“I’m sorry to be trauma dumping Mr Jeon, I have no right to complain. I am a wealthy, privileged princess and these complaints are childish” ___ says with a soft smile, she feels comfortable to talk to him for some reason, she just wants to keep talking and empty her brain, and heart.

“Well, do I still stand to score a date even if I’m not present on your list” Jungkook says with a light chuckle, he couldn’t have mustered up the courage to do this if not for the three glasses of champagne. His biggest fears do not come true and she doesn’t turn and boo at his face, but rather she has a big smile as she holds his jacket tightly.

“Score a date, mind you Mr Jeon you’re talking to the royal highness princess ___, third in line to the royal throne” ___ jokes as she takes a step closer to him, she’s still a bit cold and in need for warmth. To her surprise, he doesn’t pick up on her joke but rather stiffen up as his face falls.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“ “That is exactly how I want, need you to talk, drop the formalities and score a date with me, ___” she has a bright, gorgeous, wonderful smile as she takes another step forward. His eyes are following her hand as they reach over to fix a piece of hair.

“Oh” he mutters as her hand travels downwards, to the collar that was once out of place. There is absolute silence and deep breaths as both her hands come around his neck, his jacket falling off her shoulders right at that second.

Compared to a confident smile that ___ usually wears, she now has a small, shy one. If it were any other man, he would have instantly captured on this moment, but Jungkook isn’t just any other man. He’s a bit clumsy and somehow it adds to his charm.

“Ask me out again” ___ instructs and all the sudden the wheels in Jungkook’s brain are working again. He bites his lip anxiously as he finally does something, circling his arms around her waist, she may not need some steadying right now, but he does.

“Can I take you out, to my favourite barbeque place that feels so comfortable in a behind alley somewhere in Incheon. We could share some soju and I get to know you, ___” Jungkook barely whispers her name, worried someone other than her is going to hear him. To his shock, she isn’t confidently saying yes to this, but rather, hiding her face around his chest, he’s worried if is heart is beating too loudly.

In a moment of confidence, Jungkook beings his hands up to ___’s face. For a second, he sees her more as a vulnerable, shy, 25-year-old ___, rather than a confident princess. It doesn’t surprise her, but he rather wants to see the former ___ again.

“Tell me, you want me to pick you up on my bike and take you out?” Jungkook asks again, her sudden lack of confidence fills him with it.

“Yes, but only if I get to wear a cute pink helmet” ___ talks once again and Jungkook has to take a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Of course, do you have a specific pink?” Jungkook asks and ___ gets on her tip toes to get closer not to his lips, but his cheek. His grip around her tightens as she leaves a soft peck on his cheek, leaving an imprint of her salmon pink lipstick.

“I wouldn’t dare to wash my face after this, but I need to get a few more pictures taken for the press” Jungkook confesses as the two of them stand still, not wanting to move away, just yet.

“Do you have a napkin?” ___ asks and Jungkook immediately drops his hands around her to look for something in his pockets, he does find the napkin he’s been using all night to wipe away the sweat, hopefully, she can’t smell any of it.

The cheeky twinkle is back as she places the napkin against her lips to leave an imprint. He stares at it for a second too long as she hands it back before folding it and placing it back in his pocket.

“I think we should get going, you should be talking and networking with people, taking in all the praise” ___ talks as she bends down to pick up his jacket, rather than handing it back to him, she’s helping him putting it back on.

“Yes ma’am” Jungkook jokes as he takes a step towards the door, ___ mocks some anger as she scowls her mouth but he just chuckles as he keeps the door open for her.

“I want to ask you something that’s been gnawing on me all evening” Jungkook asks the princess as they reach the end of the stairs.

“What?” “What am I supposed to do with my hands when I get photographed?” the genuine anguish behind Jungkook’s words makes ___ giggle, this just adds to his clumsiness.

“There are two options, you either keep one hand in your pocket and other beside you, or, my favourite one, have a date, so you always have something, or rather someone to hold” ___ says and now Jungkook is the one blushing.

“Where did you disappear to?” Mingyu asks as the princess takes her seat back at the table, most tables are empty now, everyone standing around and chatting about one thing or another.

“Just here and there, talking to people” ___ replies with a cheeky smile as she reaches over to her handbag to find her lipstick and reapply it.

“Well, I’m throwing a surprise celebratory afterparty for Jungkook, a few of our common friends are going to be there, lots of booze, I’ve reserved the rooftop of a hotel to party our heart away. You should come” Mingyu asks, trying to help out his friend who’s clearly interested.

“The party isn’t much of a surprise as Jungkook already asked me to join too, but like I told him, I have an event early tomorrow and I absolutely can’t be hungover for it” ___ tells like she told Jungkook, who retorted with ‘Then you’ll blend in right with all the rest of the hungover students’

“That’s too bad, you seem quite fun and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off you” Mingyu teases as they both catch Jungkook looking right at ___ as someone continues to talk to him.

“I can’t either, but I have duties, royal duties for which I can’t slip up even a little” ___ is going back to being a princess after a few fleeting moments of being herself and there’s nothing she can do about it.

“Ma’am, should go around the room, there are some people Mr Kim wanted you to talk to, we’ll have to leave after that” Namjoon says from right beside her and at once she stands up, understanding that the work needs to be done.

Jungkook’s watching from a distance as the princess goes around, more like people coming and finding her one after the other to share a word. She dazzles each, making them laugh, people definitely walk away a bit awed and definitely charmed by her.

She talks to a few important people in business, fan girls over a celebrity or two and it’s right as she’s about to leave when she looks around to say goodbye. Jungkook spots her wandering eye immediately and excuses himself from a much boring conversation.

“Leaving so soon ma’am?” Jungkook asks as he walks closer, Han just a step behind him.

“Yes, I have royal duties tomorrow as well, the princess duties don’t stop” ___ says with a bit of a pout, something Jungkook finds incredibly adorable. ___ can spot an impatient man standing behind Jungkook, she assumes it’s the assistant Jungkook spoke off.

“Mr Han, I wanted to congratulate you as well, this event that I was told you’ve been working very hard towards and was quite fun, hopefully the game will be too” ___ finally addresses Han and he as opposed to Jungkook, bows with quite conviction.

“Thank you your royal highness” “Can I walk you out ma’am-“ “Actually you still have a few people you’re yet to talk to” Han interrupts Jungkook and ___ can’t help but laugh out loud.

“I see you’ve got an interrupter yourself, you better listen to him Mr Jeon” “I better, we’ll it was delightful to meet you, I’ll definitely being seeing you soon your royal highness” “You will”

___ struggles to use a cork screw, but she finally has a glass of wine in her hand. She got back at her apartment few moments ago and the rush of all that has happened today is all coming back to her. She hasn’t done this kinda thing in months, years, and all she can still think about is how good he smelled, how big and warm his hands are, how his laugh forces her to smile, she feels like a giddy teenager with a crush.

All ___ wants is to get out of this dress, but the zipper seems stuck and she just might have to ask one of the security officers to help her out, no matter how embarrassing it is. It’s like the universe can hear her thoughts, because the doorbell rings right at that second.

“What are you doing here?” is the first thing ___ asks as she opens the door, swinging it open, not just anyone can ring the doorbell, security lets them through first, and she is utterly shocked seeing Taehyung here, in the same suit he was this morning.

“I wanted to hand these myself, it is your first speaking engagement with me as your press secretary after all” Taehyung says pointing to another folder filled with documents.

“How was the appointment, come on in” ___ says as she takes a step back and Taehyung walks behind her, not used to seeing ___ in such glamourous dress. He has to force himself to look away.

“It went well, I mostly worked through it as mom watched some tv, still a bit nauseous from the hospital smell” Taehyung answers frankly as ___ picks up the bottle of wine again.

“Are you driving home?” “No, I live walking distance from here” Taehyung answers and watches ___ pour him a quite full glass, he definitely needs it.

“Before we get to work, can you do something for me, follow me to my room?” ___ asks as she crosses through the living room, leading him into the bedroom. It’s quite a contrast to the last bedroom of ___ Taehyung remembers. The college apartment was decorated, the bedroom used to be messy, but now it’s all decorated, clean, lacks character.

“I think the zipper is stuck, help me please” ___ asks as she turns around and gathers all her hair in the front. Taehyungs frozen but he does as instructed, bringing the zipper down midway her spine and stopping there.

“I just need to get out of this and get the makeup off as well, sip on your wine and I’ll be back” she’s gone swiftly and Taehyung just awkwardly stands, not knowing what to do, what to see, where to sit.

He spots the pile of books he suggested she read, to be more fluent in korean, flowers in the room, arranged neatly and evenly into beautiful vases, so much white furniture and blankness, not art or paintings, her desk with her laptop and straight piled books, no sticky notes or calanders in sight, this is a stark difference to the room ___ had in college.

“Taehyung, can you hang this dress in the other room, the hanger is in the bathroom” ___ says as she steps out in a navy-blue collared pyjama set and the dress on her arms. The matching, proper pyjamas are once again a reminder that this isn’t the same ___ he knew years ago.

The supposed guest room is empty, entirely set up, but empty. Taehyung just does as he says, hanging the dress and taking a step back to look at it, he’s already seen almost 50 reports just about how gorgeous she looked, numerous tweets, people already starting to fall in love, just as intended.

He walks back to her room, the bathroom door completely swung open as she continues to remove her makeup. Taehyung watches her quietly for a second till ___ catches him through the mirror.

“I haven’t had the chance to look online yet, but what are the articles like?” ___ asks as she continues to massage in the cleansing balm.

At the slight mention of work, Taehyung is back on it, reading her a few excerpts from what he read. The people particularly loved the pictures of her and Jungkook right before she got on stage, there were video edits made already.

“So, overall success, multiple people posted with you on social media. I was thinking even we could put up stories on your Instagram, congratulating Mr Jeon and his company, I can get pictures from one of the many photographers” Taehyung says already texting people as ___ washes her face.

“Definitely, also Hoseok suggested I wear a suit tomorrow instead of a dress” “Definitely”

Taehyung sees cheering crowds every time ___ attends an event, speaks to a crown, attends a gala or even a time she went out shopping. This all feels new and surreal that all this has happened in a matter or one and a half month. Today ___ is volunteering at an orphanage, spending some time with the kids, playing a few games with them, but to their surprise most kids are between the age of 10-15, breaks his heart.

“Jesus fucking christ, Taehyung these are teenagers, teenagers are scary, what do I talk to them about?” ___ asks as they’re greeted with a bunch of smiling kids, ___ had been assuming that it would be little kids who don’t ask the difficult questions, but it’s teenagers, people she has no experience with.

“Kids in this age group have a hard time being adopted, they’re just children, maybe a little traumatised but still children, just talk to them like you would with Princess Jia” Taehyung says as they walk even closer to the people who run this place, who were more than delighted when Taehyung called to arrange this.

“Jia has been a nightmare lately, Oh hello kids, these flowers are so pretty, thank you” ___ switches it mid-sentence, the flowers look like they have been picked right from the garden and it’s the most beautiful bouquet she’s received recently.

After a lot of formal greetings and more flowers all of them make their way to the open amphitheatre, and she looks around in awe, this place is rather well made, must help the kids a lot. There’s still some press as they take a few photos every now and then, ___’s still not used to the flashing lights.

“Hello everyone, thank you for such a warm welcome, it’s a beautiful morning isn’t it” ___ speaks on the microphone. The kids look at her with such wide smiles that it hurts her that she called them scary a few minutes ago.

“Now, I want to propose a little bit of challenge to you guys, instead of me standing on stage the whole time and answering questions, which I hear you guys have a lot of. I sit with you up there and everyone that has a question comes up and asks me on stage. You guys wanna do that?” ___ asks and it’s a mix of loud no’s and some yes’s. She just laughs it off as she looks around again. Talking to their head caretaker earlier, she learnt how the kids sometimes struggle with confidence and being seen, hence the change.

“Come on it’ll be fun, and I have a simple trick for when you’re nervous on stage, look directly at me when you speak and just forget about the rest of the people, can you do that” ___ asks again and there are a few enthusiastic yes’s and that’s a good thing.

“Alright, one after another, come up on stage, tell us your name and ask me the question.” ___ takes a seat between the kinds after this and they’re visibly shaking with excitement when she does.

Most questions are easy, asking if she likes the sunset or sunrise, summer or winter, what was she like in high school, what clubs was she a part of in school, how did she decide what she wanted to study, she’s not puzzled till a shy girl in her floral dress comes up on stage.

“Hi, my name is Choi Seun, and I wanted to ask, um, how does one know when they’re in love?” she asks and continues to take deep breaths after she’s done speaking. The kids look at ___ with anticipation, and she tries to string together an answer, she should have anticipated this, these are teenagers after all.

“Well, love um, it’s a deep feeling that comes from a lot of respect, care and affection for one another. It’s a very complex feeling, but for me, I have known that I am in love when I feel extremely comforted just by their presence, when I can talk to them about everything that is bothering and exciting me and most importantly, when I want to share my food with them” ___ jokes about the last part and to her delight the girl is laughing and so are the rest of the kids, indicated she did good.

There are a few more questions and they finally break for lunch after. The pictures keep constantly happen as she sits with the team that takes care of the kids. She finds Taehyung and mouth him to come talk to her.

“Yes ma’am” “The press must have gotten enough pictures by now, for the tour of their rooms, can we ditch the cameras?” ___ asks as all the people around her listen intently.

“It’s a private place for the kids and I do want to spend some time with them without the cameras” ___ continues and Taehyung is already formulating what to say to the press.

___’s given a tour of the living space for the children, the walls are so colourful, books all around, even a specialized room to play video games, which she’s told the kids love.

“This room was donated by Mr Jeon, he’s actually one of our biggest donators” the caretaker shares as a few kids continue to stay glued to their video games. Even his name brings a small smile on ___’s face, it had been a week since they met and exchanged texts every now and then, he’s busy with work for now.

“That’s wonderful, he’s a great person isn’t he” “He’s the best, despite how busy he is with work he makes sure to come in and check with the kids every month. The money is good, it definitely helps, but he really gives the kids the attention and care they really crave” she says with a similar smile that ___ has.

“Wow, you guys have really decorated your room well” ___ exclaims as she walks into one of the girls’ dormitories. The walls are full of kpop posters, pictures, lots of cd’s, even an old-fashioned cd player.

“Oh, look at this picture, when was this taken?” ___ asks picking up a framed picture from one of the bedside table, once again, to her surprise it’s of Jungkook and the girl, it looks like it was taken just months ago.

“Jungkook oppa throws a big party for us every ear, he calls it a group birthday celebration and he takes all of out to a restaurant and we cut so many cakes and it’s so much fun, this is from the last group birthday” the thirteen-year-old explains with excitement and ___ is endeared enough to mutter out a aw and whip out her phone to send this picture to Jungkook.

“I’m sending this to Mr Jeon, he’s quite busy with work so this’ll cheer him up” “I saw pictures of Jungkook oppa and you from his event, are you guys dating?” an older girl asks and causes ___ to stand up straight immediately. That question is immediately followed by “Oh my god, you guys looked so good together” “You looked so pretty” “He’s so handsome isn’t he” “He’s so nice, who wouldn’t fall in love with him” “You guys are the IT couple”

___’s tired beyond anticipated as she finally falls in her sofa, it’s been a longer day than anticipated by a longer than expected stay at the orphanage and a dinner with the chamber of commerce afterwards.

Tomorrow is again a busy day, just like today. But the right kind of busy with lectures and presentations. With her laptop on her stomach, she continues editing one of her submissions when she feels her phone ringing.

“Hey, what a surprise” ___ doesn’t try to mask her excitement at all as she picks up the call, it’s from Jungkook, they haven’t talked on the phone yet.

“Hi” Jungkook says as he stands up in the empty conference room, he doesn’t even know what caused him to call her, he just wanted to.

“Thank you for the picture, really brightened my dreadful day” Jungkook says with a bit of excitement, his day has gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours but right in this moment, he doesn’t care.

“Dreadful?” “My team is on top of it, hopefully it’ll be resolved by the time we launch the game” “In seven days, you excited” ___ asks and Jungkook smiles widely, noticing how she’s been keeping a note of when the game launches.

“I’m so nervous all the time, last night I had a nightmare that the game was a flop and people kept yelling at me” Jungkook confesses and he can hear the giggles from the other side, it’s great that his misery is funny to someone.

“That’s not going to happen, in other news, you’re have a lot of adoring fans at the orphanage, a few teenage girls with massive crushes on you as well” ___ shares and this time Jungkook is the one giggling, he has had a change to look at the thousands of pictures posted online from ___’s visit, it looked like she had fun.

“Yes, and they aren’t very subtle about it, the last time one of them asked me what my type was and I chocked so hard on water” Jungkook says and ___’s laughter is making him feel a lot better, but the feeling is starting to vanish as Han knocks on the door once again.

“So, what is your type?” ___ asks and she is sure that she sounds like one of those teenage girls with crush, but she doesn’t care.

“How about I tell you that when we meet, in eight days because I really need to go, Han is looking at me like a crazy person” “Okay, well, um, you take care” “You too”

It had been a busy month for ___. First full month of new and refined royal duties and the response has been overwhelmingly positive. The narrative has shifted quickly from ___ being a nobody in the royal family to her finding her actual footing in the family and with the public.

But today this is the least of her worries, today she’s waiting at the airport to pick up someone she’s been dying to see. As she parks and hands Namjoon the keys, it’s hard not to notice a few eyes turning towards here, people starting to click pictures as soon as they realise who she is.

“You taught me how to drive, how can you not trust me to drive?” ___ whines as Yoongi tries to snatch the keys away from her. Now that his concerts in Korea have been approved, Yoongi decided to fly out here to meet the family and make some arrangements for the coming tour.

“Are you seeing this parking? Hand me the keys now” ___ doesn’t fight much, she doesn’t enjoy driving anyway. Namjoon is banished to the security car that follows them, and the sister brother duo are quick to get on the road.

“I listened to the album, and it’s surprisingly hopeful with the lyrics, what happened to the angsty Yoongi?” ___ teases as she checks her phone again for the fifth time, Yoongi’s already taken note of it.

“Life became better, I am so madly and deeply in love and most importantly, what I say now is scrutinized to death, so I only want to put the best foot forward” Yoongi answers but he can see how she’s not entirely listening to it as she checks her phone once again.

“So, who is the new man who hasn’t texted you back yet?” Yoongi asks and ___ finally puts her phone down, he’s busy, unlike her, he’s got work.

“He’s not on the list so I’ve been trying not to fall for him” ___ answers with a deep breath. There hasn’t been much contact between ___ and Jungkook, his game launches day after tomorrow and he’s buried under work. There’s only been a few texts here and there, Jungkook promises to come through with the barbeque thing very soon.

“Is it the Jungkook guy, the internet has been all over you both, Jimin had to make a burner account to like all the tweets, so much speculation and gossip and the way he looked at you” “Starstruck?” ___ jokes and Yoongi look at her for a soft smile.

“Adoration,” Yoongi says as he turns from the highway onto the city roads. His answer keeps ringing in ___ mind, if Yoongi could pick up on the adoration, what else did other people pick up on.

Usually, the royal family would live and gather at the blue palace, the biggest and the oldest palace in the history of Korea. But ever since the terrible day of shooting, no member of the royal family has ever lived there. The Queen and the Prince consort live at a smaller palace right in the middle of Seoul, Wonik, Haein and their two kids at the Incheon Palace, a palace that was made for the king in waiting and ___ doesn’t live in any of the royal properties, she rents just like many other college students, but unlike them in their smaller apartments, she rents the entire penthouse to reserve the floor.

But today, the Min family has been gathered at Seoul Palace, which the royals may think is small but is a massive sprawling property with gardens all around. They’re all seated outdoors for a brunch, and ___ realises all of them haven’t been together for over four months.

Yoongi is surrounded by Jia and her two-year-old brother Jiho. Jia had her 7th birthday recently, so Yoongi came bearing gifts, lots of them, for all the kids. Wonik is engrossed in a conversation with their father, discussing an upcoming speech he has to give. Haein tells their mother about a few stories of Jia from school, Jia has been quite a lot of trouble in school lately. While all this happens ___ sits by herself, focused on the food, the food at the Seoul palace is always the best.

“So, you’ve made quite a splash in the news” her father asks as Wonik goes and pick up a crying Jiho, it hasn’t been easy for the kids and it is quite evident.

“Jealous?” “Proud” he answers as he continues to sip on his coffee. ___ hasn’t done much lately to make her father proud, she doesn’t like that this validation makes her feel better.

“Especially what you spoke at the women’s development club speech, you were in such a rare form, reminded me of the ___ who would destroy kids on her debate club” he remembers that ___ vividly a 15-year-old in her school uniform who’d debate a topic to death, even if she didn’t agree with it.

“You chose well with Kim Taehyung, he puts a tough fight with Ms Kim but he’s always looking out to serve you, he really sees you in a way none of us do” he says and all ___ can do is smile. It’s just been two months of having Taehyung on her team, and on most days, he makes the role of a royal princess much less suffocating than it did before. ___ was thankful beyond words, there had been a growing affection there, or rather respect.

Yoongi is up before ___, he’s still on New York time. He brings out the suitcase full of trader joe snacks and starts arranging them into the surprisingly empty kitchen, wondering if she ever cooks at home.

“You’re up early” ___ remarks as she ties her robe as she walks out her room. Yoongi took the liberty of having some groceries delivered, he can’t cook with all the snacks she has.

“I had a call and what do you eat, you didn’t even have any spices?” Yoongi asks as he folds an omelette. For today’s breakfast, it’s soyabean soup, kimchi, omelette and rice.

“I usually eat takeout between getting ready for events or at the events, I have cooked at home a few times tho” ___ says as gets started with the coffee. She needs coffee before any food, especially after this bad night of sleeping.

“And what was that, toast?” “Popcorn” ___ answer just makes Yoongi scoff. “Sit down and eat this before you drink any coffee, no coffee on an empty stomach” Yoongi instructs snatching the coffee cup from ___’s hand and forcing her to sit and eat.

“For today, what do you want to do?” ___ had reserved her Friday for Yoongi, just lots of catching up, eating and drinking. But she asks him none the less, hoping he has something more exciting on his mind.

“I told Haein that we could take Jia shopping, Jia has been having a tough time with the press, media and feeling different in school, afternoon with her and then we can get drunk at home, you could even “cook” some popcorn” Yoongi says and ___ scowls at his cook remark.

“Sounds fun, what are you buying Jia and me, expensive dresses, expensive shoes oh, oh, expensive jewellery-“ “Stationary, since Jia is seven I’m buying her stationary. I found this cool store that makes a bunch of fun pieces” Yoongi explains as ___ takes a big bite of rice, home made does taste different, maybe she should start cooking, or hire a cook.

“Ma’am, His Royal Highness, Prince Consort has asked to see you at his office, urgently” Namjoon says as he walks into the living room, interrupting Yoongi explaining his tour plan.

“Urgent what, everyone is alive and well right?” “Yes, he didn’t mention what it was about but both your royal highness and Mr Taehyung have been asked to come see him, immediately” Namjoon explains and ___ looks at Yoongi with confusion, what could it possibly be.

___’s led to her fathers’ office, wondering what caused him to ask for her urgently. Namjoon keeps the door open for her and she immediately catches her father who stays seated with his arms crossed. What causes her to stop functioning her for a second is the man in a suit, dishevelled and tired man in suit who immediately stands up to bow.

“Jungkook?” ___ simply asks and he barely looks her in the eye, she turns around for answers but her father has the blank face that he usually does. To her left stand Ms Kim and Taehyung, but it’s only Taehyung who has a worried look on his face.

“___ why don’t you sit down, Ms Kim will start explaining things” her father says and ___ still very confused takes a seat on the sofa beside Jungkook. She turns around to look at him again, but he just continues to stare at his hands.

“My office was contacted by Dispatch, to let us know that they are planning to release the following pictures on sunday” Ms Kim says as she hands ___ a folder, she’s the only one who doesn’t have this folder.

Flipping it open, her heart sinks the second she sees the first picture, of her kissing Jungkook’s cheek on the balcony. Her hands are clammy as she flips to see the second one, and it’s of Jungkook and ___ at the after party, talking. To add to her fears, there is a third one, one where Jungkook held her hand and lead her to one of the hotel rooms. She stares at the last one before finally looking up.

“They’re set on releasing these pictures, but we’re worried about what the reaction might be to your royal highness being in a hotel room with Mr Jeon” Ms Kim talks and ___ once again turns to look at Jungkook who is looking at her this time. But his eyes aren’t the same, they look hurt and deceived.

“What reaction, we went into the hotel room to talk, if someone was there taking pictures they would have also seen me leave, minutes after” ___ yells as she stands up, throwing the pictures on the coffee table.

“Ma’am that does not matter, this still looks like you and Mr Jeon were, um, intimate” Ms Kim barely mumbles the last part and ___ looks at Taehyung, really hoping he says something.

“So, after some discussion with Ms Kim and Mr Taehyung, we have come to the conclusion that post the pictures are released, we announce that you and Mr Jeon have been dating for six months now. It can’t look like you went into a hotel room with a man you barely knew” Mr Min says and ___ can hear Jungkook taking a very deep breath.

“What is so wrong with that father?” “It questions your decision making, it makes you look impulsive, it makes you look easy-“ “Oh shut up will you” “No I will not shut up ___, post the announcement there will be a several of activities and pictures to make the two of you look like a solid royal couple. In eight months, we will announce that the two of you are engaged” the more her father speaks, the more it’s making her head spin.

“We absolutely don’t need to do that” “___ you haven’t realised that you are a royal princess and not a common civilian, you don’t get to sleep with someone when the public knows of it and now that the public will know of it, you have to make it look like it was because of a solid relationship and not just a minute of misjudgement” Mr Min is now standing as he starts to get agitated explaining all of this.

“Ms Kim, Taehyung can you leave, I need to discuss a few more things” Mr Min says and the two walk out immediately as they close the door behind them.

“I’ve discussed this with Mr Jeon, we have come to a wager” Mr Min says and ___ once again looks at him, what could he possibly be getting out of this to agree to this.

“Last night, Golden Studio’s only investor pulled out their investment, they wanted managerial control with the growing success and Mr Jeon refused. Without any investment company backing then, the company would go bankrupt in matter in 180 days. So, with my connections, I have found an investor that has agreed to invest without any managerial control” Mr Min shares and ___ is starting to connect the dots, this must have been the work disaster that he was talking about before absolute silence.

“So, in return for that you’re forcing him to marry me, how is that fair to him?” “___ get this through your head once and for all, that you are a woman and not a man, people will not excuse a royal woman caught up in this, all this is happening because of your misjudgement, I wouldn’t have gotten involved if it wasn’t for you” her father sounds and ___ takes a step back.

“These pictures will make the public question not just your character but the families as well, the queen’s character. The public is barely starting to accept and think of us as the royal family, but with this without any follow up, will not help it at all” he continues talking and ___ takes support against a wall, wanting to be as far away from Jungkook as possible.

“And as you promised to me five years ago, you are obliged to go through with anything that helps with your position as the royal princess, and this unfortunately is one of those things that you have to comply with, without any arguing” Mr Min continues talking mostly to his daughter and Jungkook can’t help but wonder why he even called her that night.

“Jungkook you don’t have to do this, you can find another company-“ “No your royal highness, I can’t, I haven’t slept for the last 48 hours and have tired everything and this is the only solution that has presented itself. No investment company wants to touch my company because of my stipulations. If I don’t take this deal I’ll be forced to delay launching a game that we have been working on for the last three years, lay people off, tarnish our reputation and force me to loose something I’ve put my life into” Jungkook finally speaks up and there is this iciness in his eyes that disturbs ___.

“For all intents and purposes the two of you are a real couple to the country, the world, news, your family, friends, each and every person excluding us, Ms Kim, Mr Taehyung and Mr Jeon’s assistant” Mr Min says as he finally sits down. ___ doesn’t feel all this to be real, just a very bad nightmare, where the man she thought liked here looks at her with fury.

“This marriage is going to be a royal one, so there’s no out, no divorce, you two together for all of this now, for the rest of your lives” Mr Min’s words are ringing in Jungkook’s ears, he feels claustrophobic, the nauseous feeling very much back.

Jungkook hasn’t had an easy life, his parents passed away in a car accident, they were on their way back from work and suddenly the cars break failed, causing them to collide with a wall and dying, right at impact. This happened when he was 7, and over 20 years later, he still has the memory of his mother’s best friend telling him what happened late that night.

Jungkook was right away adopted by his mother’s best friend and her husband, his grandmother was too old to take care of him and his mother’s mother never wanted to see him again. That was the first time in his life that he felt the feeling of having no control over his life. He remembers crying about the loss of his parents and adjusting with his new family in bed for years. He just wanted to stay at his home, at his family home, but he was forced to go live at some strange house.

Jungkook worked at one of the biggest tech companies right out of college at 21. For the initial few months, he was excited, thrilled, worked 12-hour days happily. But about 2 years in he was assigned a project that involved using private, vulnerable data to influence them into buying products that make their life even worse. That was the first time in his adult life he realised that he didn’t have any control over his life, to companies like these, they were a mere data point to be manipulated.

When he started his company at 24, the initial money came from the settlement money from the car manufactures that caused his parents death. Jungkook vowed to never have outside investors, he knows how these companies worked, investing in companies and controlling them for their gain. He never wanted to have the feeling of not having control over his life, so any investor that they did talk to was made clear, no managerial control.

But this minute as he sits and listen to Mr Min and ___ fight is the most he’s felt that he has no control over his life. He’s agreed to completely let go any control of his personal life to save his company and Jungkook isn’t sure how he feels about it. But he knows that he feels sick.

Mr Min leave, asking the two of them to talk to each other while he goes and discusses a few things with the press secretaries. There a harsh silence in this office, Jungkook had deluded himself into looking at ___ as just ___, but if today is any proof, he should have only seen her as a princess.

“You were right that night, I should have just stayed home” ___ finally speaks up as she takes the seat beside him once again. But the close proximity to her is suddenly making him feel uncomfortable, evident by how he stands up.

“I, um, just got swept away with the infatuation of it all and now we’re in this mess” ___ continues talking as Jungkook sips on some water, looking a bit shaky still.

“Jungkook, you know I don’t want this, I have no part in this, I am just part of this unforgiving system that I don’t want to be in” ___’s vomiting words right now, because she very desperately needs Jungkook on her side.

“I don’t want to do this to you, you have to believe me Jungkook” “What does me believing you even change now your royal highness? It doesn’t change this situation at all” Jungkook finally speaks up, the two red bulls he drank earlier finally kicking in.

“Look, we can just think of this as an challenge and do our best to harness any real feelings we have for each other-“ “Ma’am, let me make myself very clear, any feelings of affection I had for you have now been replaced with obligation” Jungkook’s voice is strained but firm, ___ definitely understands what he’s trying to tell, and it breaks her heart.

“Jungkook don’t be like this” ___ pleads as she stands up herself, and Jungkook just scoffs looking her straight in the eyes.

“Don’t be like what? Ma’am you don’t know me well enough but I lost my parents to a brutal accident when I was 7 and it made me realise just how much I don’t like it when I don’t have control over my life. But here I am, giving up control to the most intimate parts of my life to save my company. So, please don’t ask me to find any feelings for you right now, because even if I try very hard, I can’t seem to find them” Jungkook answers very candidly as he buttons his jacket, his phone has been going off all morning, he needs to be back at the office.

“So, please don’t ask me to find feelings for you as I watch the plans of my personal future slip away” Jungkook can see just how much his words are affecting her, her eyes on the brink of tears but she’s fighting them still.

___ wants to argue, tell him that it’s not all that bad, they can make it work, if they try really really hard, but she can also see the emotional walls he’s starting to put up around himself.

“Please your royal highness, excuse me, I am needed back at the office, the place where I still have some control”

The office is filled with people, Han had arranged for everyone to be around when the game goes live and the celebratory vibe around Jungkook is starting to feel like mockery.

“Where the hell have you been?” Seokjin asks as he rushes out his office the second he spots Jungkook, as the CEO he wants to yell at him, ask him where he’s been all this while he waited for a word from him, but as a brother he’s deeply concerned by what he sees. Jungkook looks disoriented, pale and shaky, it’s very concerning.

“I…I, went to the roof and fell asleep on a bench” Jungkook says truthfully, on his way back from the royal office, instead of going straight to his office, he went to the roof to think, and smoke and promptly fell asleep.

“What? Jungkook are you okay? Do you have a fever?” Seokjin asks as he immediately checks his temperature and he’s shockingly cold, too cold.

“So, Mr Black is going to send over the contract, they are doubling the investing amount, helping us expand and market in the west and are completely okay with no managerial control, apparently he does this just because he sees potential in good business and not for control which is shocking. Also, there’s going to be some news about me and my girlfriend soon, but that’s mostly out of my control, it’s not all bad, but it’s definitely something. And I talked to our server company and they have assured me that the servers will be incredibly the best right as the game launches. Also, I’ve had five red bulls today and what time is it” Jungkook keeps rambling on as Jin drags his brother into his office, the concern only keeps growing as Jungkook keeps babbling.

“Jungkook drink this water and sit here, I’m going to go get Han” Jin instructs handing him a bottle of water from his table and asking his assistant to go get Han.

The water starts to help with the dehydration, but the migraine is only growing. Jungkook continues drinking from a second bottle as Han and Jin walk into the office again.

“He’s drank five red bulls and given how sensitive he is to caffeine, should we take him to a hospital?” “I know a doctor, I’ll ask him to come check on him, you take the contracts to legal and see to that, I’ll take care of him” Han instructs and with a few more cautious looks Jin finally leaves.

“Jungkook, do you have any chest pains” “Yes, my heart hurts” Jungkook answers as he unscrews the third bottle but doesn’t drink anyway. His statement only causes Han to panic even more as he scrambles around for his phone.

“Han, stop, listen to me, I made a deal with the Prince Consort, for the investment, tomorrow they’re going to announce that her and I have been dating for six months, that we met through mutual friends and have been getting to know each other well with plans of future of some crap, and in eight months, apparently I’m going have to propose to her and after that we are going to spend the rest of our lives together, oh my god I think I’m having a panic attack”

As Jungkook lays on the floor of his brother’s office, the consequences of what he’s agreed to are starting to dawn on him. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest day of his life, but he can use today to pin point today as the day his life officially left his hands. But the second he shuts his eyes, the image of sitting in that hotel room comes into his head, when will he start to forget about that night.

“Good suggestion, it is definitely too loud outside” ___ says it the second they exit the rooftop, Jungkook is quite tipsy himself and all he wants to do it reach over and hold her hand.

“Mingyu gave me a hotel room, he just wants me to sleep for 12 hours and not think of work” Jungkook says as he flashes a hotel key the moment they reach the hallway. ___’s starting to over thing all of this, she shouldn’t have texted him, she shouldn’t have come here, but she really wanted to see him and she’s had about a half bottle of wine.

“You’re stumbling a lot, how much did you drink?” ___ asks as Jungkook slumps against the door, struggling with the key card, but on the sixth try, the door finally swings open and Jungkook almost falls on his face, but ___ holds his hand and stabilizes him right on time.

“Your hands are very cold, unusually cold, you should see a doctor about it” Jungkook says as he pulls her in and shuts the door behind them. ___ laughs, finding this honest and unleashed Jungkook hilarious.

“Maybe, my hands are cold because I was standing on a roof in a hoddie and jeans and your hands are so warm because you’ve been drinking” ___ says and Jungkook takes a seat on the bed while she continues to stand in front of him.

“You were shining like the sun today, you looked like hope” Jungkook giggles as he flops back on bed, sitting up is just taking too much effort at this point. ___ is struck with his observation, she received a lot of compliments today, but this one is by far the best one.

“Like hope?” “Yes, the kind of hope, not in the way people usually mean it…but the kind that sneaks up on you when you’ve stopped expecting it” Jungkook barely stands up on the bed again, and he’s starting to sober up seeing just how sad she looks. He stands up in a panic when the tears finally escape her eyes.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, did…did, I say something wrong,” Jungkook asks as his hands rake through his hair, he should have just kept drinking more outside, or kept his mouth shut.

“No, um, I should go, I’ve had a lot of wine and I have to speak at a college tomorrow and I should go” ___ is just hit with all of it, why did he even see any hope, she doesn’t have any, in herself or to give, she’s quite hopeless.

“Hey, I’m sorry” Jungkook says as he holds her back by her wrist the second she turns around. This was going so well, right up till he opened his big giant mouth.

“Don’t be, you should go out there, celebrate your success, we’ll talk later” ___ rids of his hand in one swift movement and Jungkook’s left there standing, wondering, overthinking.

Yoongi knows something is off, ___ was excited for his visit but all the sudden she’s quite and shut off. They were supposed to go shopping and spend time together, but she showed up home to late to do any of that. He definitely smelt cigarettes on her this morning as she’s oddly quite, still on her phone.

“___, we have that family dinner today, how about we go shopping before that?” Yoongi suggests as she continues to munch on her dry toast, that’s all she can stomach right now.  ___’s been told by Ms Kim to tell Yoongi and her family about Jungkook, before the news comes out today at midnight and she still hasn’t been able to iron out a story to lie about.

“I actually have to go see my boyfriend” she says as she cautiously watches Yoongi’s reaction and to just as expected, he’s choking on his coffee right as she says that. She could very easily lie to the rest of the world, but lying to Yoongi is difficult.

“What, who, which boyfriend, WHAT” Yoongi asks as he completely disregards his coffee and comes and sit on the sofa beside her.

“Well, um, Jungkook,-“ “You’re dating him, he’s your boyfriend?” “Of six months” ___ says and Yoongi stands up in shock of it all, she tells him everything, every good and bad thing, how has this not been told yet.

“How, why, how has it not come up yet” Yoongi asks incredulously, ___ once called him between a bad date, how did a boyfriend of six months not come up yet. Yoongi wonders what else has been going on with her that he doesn’t know about.

“Because I didn’t even know if it was real at first, he doesn’t really fit the model of boyfriend that the press or even mom and dad are expecting,” ___ did take some notes to get her story right, she can’t just be freeballing this.

“why is that?” “He has tattoos, an arm full of them, at a point he used to have a lip piercing, he doesn’t come from a chaebol family, he has a video game business and not some boring finance or business thing, he has stated his political opinions out loud, to the press, he’s, he is,” ___ stops for a second as she tries to breath away that panicky feelings she’s been getting.

“He speaks out about the issues he believes in rather than being diplomatic about it, he’s kinda clumsy, his family, um, he was adopted and spends a lot of time with orphaned children” ___ says and Yoongi exhales sitting back besides her.

“He sounds like a wonderful, strong headed, caring and generous man” Yoongi says softly and ___ doesn’t say anything but rather leans her head on his shoulder.

“So, why didn’t tell me about him, earlier, or much rather after the first date?” Yoongi asks as he rubs her hand, ___’s clearly still struggling with something.

“Because I wasn’t sure if I wanted him in all this, my world, as a royal, with all the press, media and attention” ___ says that knowing full well Jungkook is about to enter her world with full force, without having any say in it.

“Well, it’s simple, do you love him?” Yoongi’s question stumps her, the dry toast coming back up the more she thinks about it. There’s no option here, and Jungkook’s made it very clear that she’s just an obligation to him.

“Yes” “It’s simple then, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stuck around for six months without realising the reality that comes with your title” the more Yoongi talks the more ___ realises just what a horrible thing she’s doing to Jungkook.

___ hoping Yoongi doesn’t have any more questions, because just thinking and lying about this situation is depressing her. To her surprise, she’s saved by the doorbell and knows exactly who is on the other side, exactly why she’s dressed in business formals on a Saturday morning.

Yoongi swings the door open as ___ picks up her handbag, but there’s one more thing she might have forgotten to tell him.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here? ___ why is your ex-boyfriend doing here?” Yoongi asks and the two of them look at each other awkwardly.

“He’s my press secretary” “Why is your ex-boyfriend your press secretary-“ “Because he’s good at his job and can you stop calling him my ex-boyfriend, people can’t know about it” ___’s not even dazed with this secret now, she has a much bigger one to keep.

“I’m sorry for being a bit late, I was at the hospital and the discharge was a struggle” Jungkook’s voice breaks the weird tension that has taken over the conference room as Han helps him sit down. ___ sits up as she spots the IV bag that was wheeled into the room with him.

“What happened?” ___ asks from across the table, for some weird reason the sitting arrangement ended up with Jungkook and her being at the two ends of the table and it’s only adding to the tension.

“Mr Jeon was taken to the hospital post launch for severe dehydration-“ “I’m fine” Jungkook cuts off Han who just nods, opening the file that has been waiting for them. The sole purpose of this meeting is to get their stories straight, and thanks to their press people, they will have the perfect fairy tale story by the end of it.

“First off, congratulations Mr Jeon and company, the news has been very favourable since the launch last night-“ “Can we get straight to the point, my work is not being controlled by the royal family” Jungkook’s harsh tone is biting, but ___ can’t help but notice how pale and frail he still looks.

“Okay, first thing on the agenda is getting our stories straight, do the both of you have any input?” Taehyung asks as shifts in his seat, Jungkook’s glare is piercing and he doesn’t know how to neutralize this tension.

“Mr Taehyung, right? I’m sure you already have a story prepared based on research, so how about you just tell us what it is, instead of asking for our input” Jungkook is still clearly very angry, but all ___ can do right now is nod and ask Taehyung to proceed.

Taehyung sits up and starts sharing the perfectly crafted story. About eight months ago, both of them attended a charity gala, that’s the first time they met. They connected over shared interests, spend time in private to avoid media attention. But with the picture coming out, they’ve decided to be share about the relationship in an effort for more transparency from the royals. They way they’re spinning their match in the media consists around the simple though of how their union combines the tradition of the royal family with the modernity that Jungkook brings in.

“To get ahead Dispatch, I think it would be the best if Mr Jeon attended the dinner today for the Prince Consorts birthday. I will tip of another paparazzi about it and place them for pictures as her royal highness princess ___ and Mr Jeon enter the restraunt. Those pictures being released prior to the dispatch ones are essential to establish this as a committed, serious relationship” Taehyung stops talking for a second to take in the mood of the room and it’s even more tense now as ___’s eyes stay fixed on Jungkook for any reaction while he continues to stare at the report in front of him.

“He’s too sick for a dinner-“ “I’m not, what time am I expected?” Jungkook interrupts ___ and she sighs, leaning back in the chair. Looking around the Golden Studio office, she can see the remnants of yesterday’s celebrations.

“Around 7:30, pick up ma’am from her place-“ “No, my brother’s staying at my place, it’s best if I meet him outside the restraunt, I can’t take a car ride with him and Yoongi” ___ can imagine the amount of questions or rather the interrogation that would take place and they’re bound to break in front of him.

“Alright-“ “Do I need to pick up a gift? I can’t come empty handed if the motive of this meeting is also to make the royal family like me” Jungkook asks as he looks ___ directly in the eyes, his eyes are very void of any emotions and that disturbs her.

“My father likes wine, so I’ve bought him an old French bottle, we can say that it’s from the both of us. Don’t wear a suit tonight, we’ve decided to keep it causal so just dress pants, a shirt and a sweater, I can have my stylist drop off-“ “I am capable of dressing myself” Jungkook interrupts her as he looks away and she just nods going back to looking around.

“Alright, I’m still trying to iron out the possible public and private spotting that will happen. The statement to announce the relationship will be made by our office and when asked for a comment on the same the reply from Mr Jeon’s office is going to be the same.” Taehyung is now talking mostly to Han as the two people in this relationship are focused looking elsewhere.

“Hi mother, how are you doing?” ___ asks as she walks out the conference room, standing by one of the windows as she looks out at the sunny February day.

“I am good, your father and I went on a hike this morning, very refreshing” a chipper queen responds and ___ just sighs as she gears up for what she’s about to ask.

“So, I have been dating someone for a while now, and I was thinking that today is the perfect day for him to meet my family. With all of us around, the pressure won’t be as heavy on him” ___ is getting good at this lying thing because given how soft his voice is, she sounds believable.

“Would that someone be Mr Jeon Jungkook?” “Yes, how’d you know?” ___’s voice is panicked for a moment wondering if she too knows about their arrangement.

“You attended a party for his game launch, it’s not usually the kind of event you’d attend as a royal princess. And based on the pictures from that night, it looked like he was delighted to have you there” her mother’s words just remind ___ of Jungkook from that day and she can’t control the tear that rolls off her cheek.

“Yes, and Jungkook’s excited and a bit nervous to see you all, I just wanted your go ahead before I talk to him about this” the queen hasn’t met any of ___’s boyfriend yet, and she doesn’t hide her excitement as she says yes.

“How long have the two of you been together” “Six months, it’s getting quite serious so I thought now would be a good time for everyone to meet him” ___ talks with a clenched fist as she breaths really hard, trying not to break down.

“That’s wonderful ___, I’m looking forward to meeting him” “I’ll see you later” ___ turns around to go back to the conference room to give everyone the conformation but gets startled when she catches Jungkook waiting for her.

“My mother gave her go ahead” she says as she takes a shaky breath. The stiffness between them grows stronger but no one does anything to help it.

“I need to take a few press calls about the launch, Han will brief me on everything later” Jungkook answers and she nods. He watches as he opens her mouth twice, but just moves forward with silence.

___ takes her seat in the conference room, letting every one of the queen’s approval. Han and Taehyung continue to discuss possible event they can attend together, ironing out as many details they can foresee. Thanks to the glass walls in this office, ___ watches as Jungkook takes a seat in his office and immediately starts working.

“I’ll just let Jungkook know that we’re leaving, can you pick up dad’s gift from the kitchen” ___ asks Yoongi as she finishes putting on her heels and shoots off a quick text to Jungkook. She shuts off her phone when he sends back an okay.

“It’s strange to me that one moment I don’t know you have a boyfriend and the next he’s meeting our entire family” Yoongi talks as he comes and finds her in the foyer. Her brother hasn’t been sceptical about this, he’s rather been teasing her about the whole situation.

“I usually come to you when the relationship is turbulent, when we’re clearly not right for each other, but it’s been different with him” ___ says in hopes that it settles this once and all with Yoongi but he just gives her a pursed smile.

“But shouldn’t you be breaking him into this gently, I’m a bit hurt that given how close we are you didn’t choose for me to meet him before the rest of the family does” Yoongi presses further as he picks the car keys and ___ follows him, taking deep breaths.

“I thought the pressure on him would be less if he meet everyone together as a group and then individually for you, I’m just trying to look out for him” ___ explains as they wait for the elevator to come up. Yoongi doesn’t say anything he just nods.

The drive to the restraunt feels exceptionally small but ___ knows they’ve reaches as she spots Jungkook standing right by the entrance. Yoongi can feel how nervous ___ is with her constantly fixing her hair and shaking leg.

“Look, your man is waiting for you, with flowers” Yoongi jokes trying to lighten the atmosphere as he stops the car right by the valet. ___ can’t even hear him at this point, there’s this loud ringing in her head and she had a pit in her stomach, feeling as tho things are about to fall apart.

Jungkook’s squinting his eyes as he tries to see if this is ___, he’s hoping that it is, because he’s not prepared to face her parents all by herself. To his relief ___ steps out the car and it’s right at that point when a car whizzes past her.

“Be careful!” Jungkook yells and the surroundings are starting to sink into ___, how she was just about to be hit by a car, would not be the worst thing to happen today.

“I’m fine” she tells both the men and Yoongi stares at her with concern, her head’s been scattered all day, he noticed it first when she tried to pour coffee without having a mug there and then forgetting to zip up her dress.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks once again as she’s walking closer to him, for a second, he’s forgotten just now nervous he is about all this.

“I’m good, Yoongi, Jungkook, Jungkook, Yoongi” she introduces the two men who share a small handshake and Jungkook looks at the two of them just as blankly as he did this morning.

“No need to be so scared man, it’s not like you’re meeting the royal family” Yoongi jokes and Jungkook chuckles awkwardly and ___ plasters on the practiced smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, ___’s told me so much about you” Jungkook’s starting the lying early so that he’s practiced when he meets the rest and given Yoongi’s wide smile as his eyes shift between the couple, Jungkook’s feels like he’s doing a good job.

“I can’t say the same because I didn’t even know she was dating someone until this morning” ___ can feel the interrogation coming and she has to find a way to distract Yoongi before it begins.

“Why don’t you go in, we’ll be there in a few minutes” ___ isn’t asking her brother, but rather pushing him away and Jungkook just smiles tightly as he watches the man walk away. Once he’s out of their earshot, both of them take a big sigh of relief, trying to remember what comes next.

“Okay, so I saw the cameras earlier, they’re right by the trees” Jungkook talks looking at his feet as he fidgets with the flowers. Recalling Taehyung’s instructions, she reaches and straightens his jacket. The strange movement causes Jungkook to look at her strange, but he has the realisation a second later.

“My family’s going to want you to talk rather me, so short sentences, no political comments and compliment my mother’s bracelet, tell her how I told you the story of the bracelet and my father proposing with a bracelet rather a ring on his birthday, stick to business with Wonik, and don’t go into any one-on-one conversations with Yoongi, Got it?” ___ asks looking up at Jungkook, her eyes scanning him to look for anything else that is out of place.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, despite the nerves swirling inside him, he takes a hold of his hand, just as Taehyung asked them to. The move would be comforting if it wasn’t so strategic.

The restraunt is warm and smells of wood and fire, the entire place was reserved for the royal family who Jungkook spots right away. Under the warm lights they don’t feel as scary as they smile back at him. He gingerly lets go of her hand as he bows, greeting them all based on protocol and the people around her laugh and his worst horrors are starting to come true.

“Why are they laughing?” Jungkook whispers as he leans closer to ___ and she is smiling herself, a fond little smile.

“You’re supposed to greet my mother first, then Wonik, then my father and then Haein” ___ explains as she pulls them closer to their seats besides her Yoongi, Jungkook is all frazzled already and he’s so ready to give up on this dinner.

“It’s fine Mr Jeon, our family is not big on these formalities anyways, we’re still trying to fit into our roles” her mother says as the couple takes their seats, Jungkook knowing that they’re on display does what most gentleman would do. Pull ___’s chair out for her.

“Where are the kids?” ___ asks Wonik and Haein, she was hoping that the kids would be around to take all of the adult’s attention.

“It’s past their bed time ___” Wonik answers as the server comes around to fill their glasses of wine. Jungkook has been told very seriously to not drink for at least a week, but he doesn’t want to be rude.

“Are you supposed to be drinking?” ___ whispers to Jungkook as Wonik and her father go back to discussing the upcoming royal tour.

“I’m not but I also don’t want to be rude” Jungkook whispers and his hot breath on her ear derails her train of thought, but her mother’s eye on them brings her right back.

“Don’t drink, excuse me, don’t fill his glass, he’s still recovering from being sick” ___ speaks up for him and it comforts him for a bit, evident by the small shy smile he has as he looks around.

There are rounds of congratulations to Jungkook, apparently everyone on this table has been keeping tabs on the new launch. Jungkook starts looking at them like a normal family as the cake comes around. It’s all going better than expected and it shocks the both of them.

“So, how’d you two meet?” the dreaded question comes around as the dinner is being served and Jungkook takes the initiative knowing they want him to talk.

“We were both at the charity gala hosted in Busan about seven months ago. Everyone I talked to was looking forward to talking to the princess, or talking about the princess or talking how beautiful the princess looked” he stops for a second to pass ___ a smile and trying to feel if the room is responding to what he’s saying.

“And when she came around to our table, we just struck up a conversation about my upcoming trip to New York and her vacation in Thailand” Jungkook answers and ___ tries to hide her look of shock the best she can as Jungkook speaks verbatim from the script Taehyung handed to them.

Another person on the table who is quite amused at how well Jungkook is handling all this is Mr Min and he doesn’t try to hide it at all.

“The more we talked, the more I realised just how warm, funny and grounded she is and it’s been months since then and thank fully we’re still talking” Jungkook delivers excellently and Mr Min who previously had no confidence in him sits in shock as the rest of the table eats up their story, just like the rest of the country will too.

“When I learnt that ___ was bringing a boyfriend to this dinner, I was quite shocked, while we have known most of her boyfriends, we haven’t had the privilege of meeting them” Mr Min asks in an attempt to put them on the spot, this is the best place for them to practice talking about the relationship.

“Well, um, I am not the same ___ I used to be years ago and whether I like it or not, who I date does affect all of us as the royal family now. And as much we’ve loved being together in private, I would like to go to a café with my boyfriend and go on a vacation with him” ___ is definitely scrambling but the reassuring look Jungkook gives her helps for sure.

“What I mean by all that rambling is that, I care about him very deeply and what we’ve found with each other is rare and my hope by bringing him to meet all of you is an attempt to do all this right. I, um, I love him” her voice dips at the last sentence, the weight of it all feels heavy on her heart but just as written on the script, she speaks despite not being able to at first. Her mother and Yoongi are smiling, so she must have convinced him.

“You must go on a vacation after all the work you’ve been putting in, do you have any specific locations in mine. I’m looking for ideas too, because we haven’t been on one, in four years” the queen asks candidly and Jungkook chuckles nervously as he tries to think of an answer.

“We’ve been discussing Hawaii, but I would strongly recommend Switzerland, I took my family there for a vacation last year and it’s truly breathtaking” Jungkook’s eyes wander between the two parents and the tight smile on Mr Min’s face is an indication that he’s been doing well.

Jungkook talks a bit more about his Swiss vacation and ___ is absolutely in awe of how well he is doing. How eloquent he is when he talks to Wonik about the new business developments from around the country. But of course, he is charming, a bit different from the day he first met her, but still very charming.

“Jungkook was in rare form, despite the twitching every now and then. But you need to put a lot more work, you were all shaky and nervous” Mr Min says as the rest of the family including Jungkook walks ahead of them, ready to head home.

“Thanks for the feedback father, oh happy 65th birthday too, I hope you stop meddling with my life as the wisdom of old age dawn on you” ___ speaks with gritted teeth as she moves ahead to catch up with Wonik and Jungkook, who are still talking about the economy or something.

“___ you did well” the queen tells ___ as her mother circles an arm around her. There is no doubt that she is impressed by Jungkook, not just as the queen but also a mother.

“You think the public will like him too?” ___ asks with genuine concern as her gaze drifts to Jungkook. He looks much more confident now, at least one of them should be.

“What is important is that you love him-“ “and how easy he is to control, ‘No he won’t be drinking, he’s still recovering’” Yoongi mimics ___’s tone from earlier and she laughs dryly as she swats her brother. If someone were to look at them from a distance right now, they’d look like a normal family.

The parents leave after final pleasantries with Jungkook, ___ watches as he exhales deeply the moment, they car drives away. The same can’t be said for ___ because she’s tense as ever.

“You did good today, the day I met the parents went much worse” Haein tells Jungkook as they wait for the rest of the cars to arrive. Jungkook hasn’t had a chance to talk to her much, but he’s thankful regardless.

“It wasn’t that bad” Wonik pipes in and Haein chuckles as she thinks back to that day. “Oh it was bad, we were already engaged and I met the parents on a complete accident because all of us happened to be in the Hamptons, if it were up to Wonik, I wouldn’t have ever met the parents” Haein shares and the group laughs, more relaxed laughter now.

“I was scared to introduce her only and only because of dad, no matter how amazing our partners are, he always scrutinizes them and I only wanted to shelter you off that” Wonik claims and Haein scoffs, Yoongi can’t even fathom to find the courage to introduce his parents to Jimin yet.

“Well, thankfully ___ has always been his least favourite so Jungkook was saved of the scrutiny” Wonik teases but it causes Jungkook to look at her with a raised eyebrow, she just stiffens up more with her tight smile and crossed arms.

“She’s definitely not his least favourite, I have been wearing that crown proudly for years” Yoongi chimes in an attempt to neutralize the situation. Jungkook’s starting to understand just how complicated this family is now.

“But you’re mom’s favourite and she’s the queen, she’s quite literally the head of the country” Wonik comments and the joking tone has now been replaced with a more serious one. Yoongi chuckles dryly, wondering why are they talking about this.

In Jungkook’s eyes, the evening went fine, better than expected other than the last few moments outside the restaurant. But based on how quiet ___ is in as he drives, he’s starting to wonder otherwise.

“Are you cold, should I turn up the heat higher?” Jungkook finally breaks the ice and the princess just nods as she rubs her hands together. Jungkook noticed her shivering the second they stepped out the restaurant.

Jungkook can’t handle the quietness, but he also doesn’t have the energy or the courage to talk, so he just turns on the radio. And to his dismay, it’s a soft romantic song, it’s like the radio is mocking him. ___ watches and Jungkook stops on a red light and try to find some appropriate music on his Spotify.

“What kind of music do you like?” ___ asks as she turns to him ever so slightly, he looks at her for a second too long with a puzzled look before the car behind them honks.

“Soft pop, rnb… ballads” he answers as he zooms through the empty streets, it’s pretty close to midnight and they’re just minutes away from the disastrous pictures coming online.

“It suits you” she says as he looks around his mercedes in a bleak attempt to get to know him better. Theres’s sanitizer and hand cream where the coffee cups should be, at least he cares about his hands.

Jungkook’s about to ask something himself, but he’s cut off by her ringing phone which she picks up with a frown.

“Yes Taehyung?” she asks with a flat tone and Jungkook is tries to focus in as much as he can to listen to the call, despite the pop music he put on.

“The dinner went well, the queen clearly liked him, so did Wonik and those are the only two people in my family who’s approval matters right now” her tone is biting and she’s clearly still bothered by what Wonik said earlier.

“Why are they even there? Isn’t it unsafe for them to know where I live?” ___’s agitated as she massages her forehead, the cigarette smoking is clearly getting to her.

“FINE Taehyung it’s just, alright” she hands up and leans back with a sigh, Jungkook looks at her a couple times, wanting to know what the call was about. She finally catches his eye and she’s clutching her hair with frustration before she starts talking.

“Apparently, there’s hidden paparazzi outside my apartment building and Taehyung wants us to put a show for the cameras, to drown the hotel pictures that are coming out” she shares and Jungkook’s starting to tense up more as the hotel pictures are mentioned.

“Show how?” “Physical affection, something that will counteract against the pictures they already have of us. Something that gets peoples attention, a hug, maybe a kiss” ___ repeats what she was told on the phone and Jungkook looses control of the car just for a second.

“Don’t get out” Jungkook whispers the second he parks his car, she follows him as he walks towards her door and she’s taking deep breaths as she prepares herself for what’s waiting for her.

He doesn’t say anything as he swings the door open, but rather offers his hand which she takes with hesitation. She wonders if he can feel how clammy her hands are but they stay put as he closes the door behind her.

“What do we do, do we hug?” ___ asks as she notices just how surprisingly close, they’re standing, Jungkook’s hands go from her hand to her waist and close all the distance between them.

“I can’t believe my life has turned into this circus show” his tone is sharp as his arms hesitantly circle around her, this closeness brings back the nervous feeling that the two of them have been ignoring.

“I am so sorry-“ “What is you being sorry going to do now, put your hands on my chest” Jungkook instructs with a curt smile and ___ gingerly does so. From a distance, the two of them probably look like a couple caught up in an intimate moment.

“Because I feel bad for doing this to you, you can still go out and find yourself another investor, I still have to pose around with someone my father picks out” ___ explains as she finally looks him in the eye, she needs him to understand her. Jungkook just scoffs as his grip tightens around her.

“No investor is going to touch my company after one of the biggest investors in the country loses faith in us” Jungkook speaks with a smile, he’s at awe of just how badly things turned in a matter of day.

“If I don’t do this, I lose my company, people lose their jobs, something I poured my heart and soul into would become one of the many failed tech ventures and most hear breaking of it all” he keeps her hanging as his hand comes up fix her hair. The sudden touch is making her mind go in a tizzy but Jungkook seems unfazed.

“I would have poured the money I got as a part of my parent’s death settlement into a failed business rather than continue their legacy” his voice is shaky but he looks her square in the eyes, her red and wet eyes. Her chest tightens with the weight of his words, she knows how she is the absolute worst person in the world in his eyes, and she doesn’t see that changing.

“Jungkook I am so sor-“ Jungkook seizes all the distance between them with a fierce kiss, his warm lips against her freezing ones shuts off her brain entirely as the handbag drops down her shoulder and she holds him even closer by his hair. For a second the two of them entirely forget about this arrangement, they forget about the cold wind and what the future holds for them.

For a second, she almost pulls away, but Jungkook brings her back in with a violent fervour but he stops himself, their foreheads resting against each other for a second too long. He’s just doing all this for the cameras, is what she’s telling himself.

___ lights a cigarette in the kitchen as she waits for the coffee to be done. It’s been a week since the pictures came out and just how Taehyung orchestrates, the pictures of them kissing are what people focused on. She’s restrained herself from going online because if it’s anything negative it would just devastate her.

The front door opens and Namjoon comes into the kitchen followed by Taehyung as the two men give her a disappointed look.

“Your royal highness” both the men say in a unison as they bow, “The prince consort has called you 11 times today, he wants to talk to you, soon” Namjoon says and ___ grumbles sitting up on the counter, the coffee’s taking longer than expected.

“She has time tomorrow after her lectures-“ “No, I don’t want to see him right now” ___ interrupts Taehyung and Namjoon just nods as he leaves. Taehyung takes a good look at ___ and she does not look fine, unlike what she’s been texting him.

“I just wanted to share the positive response we have been getting since the pictures-“ “Oh how wonderful, people love that two people are forced to be together even tho they don’t want to” ___ tone is sarcastic as she takes another long drag.

“The plan is to slow play the relationship, despite the official announcement, we want to gently introduce people to the relationship” Taehyung says with a soft voice as he moves closer. He’s been worried sick, and part of his job is making her miserable, which makes him more miserable.

“Call it an arrangement” ___ says as she struggles with pouring herself coffee, her hands shaking with the lack of eating. Taehyung doesn’t want to berate her right now, so he moves swiftly and pours her cup while also looking around for food.

“Do you want to eat something, I can order food, or even cook something” Taehyung asks gingerly but he just hears a soft no.

“Just tell me what I have to do next” ___’s tone is curt and Taehyung complies as he briefs her on the upcoming events and duties she has lined up. For ___ everything is business as usual, she’s still carrying on with her royal duties, mind numbing work of smiling to cameras and making small talk.

It’s been a long week for Jungkook. His phone is constantly ringing with a call from either a reporter or someone he briefly knew, suddenly he’s gone from rising name in tech, to the boyfriend of the princess and it’s been taxing. But works still as usual, they’re still monitoring how the new game is going and in a weeks’ time, they have achieved the goals they set for the first quarter. This is a major victory, but Jungkook doesn’t feel like celebrating.

He leaves the conference room and walks to his office when he’s ambushed by the one of the many people he’s been dodging recently.

“Hyung? I thought you were busy with our advertising agency all day today?” Jungkook asks Jin who is currently blocking the entry into his office.

“That was yesterday and why haven’t you called me back or even texted me back” Jin asks as Jungkook stands still, thinking of a lie to make up.

“My phones been ringing like crazy, reporters and stuff” Jungkook isn’t entirely lying about it and Jin pulls Jungkook by the collar as he pulls him into the office. His brother is terrifyingly quiet as he shuts all the blinds.

“You’ve been dating someone for six months, no not just someone, Princess ___ and you met with her family, no the royal family and I find out all this from tabloids and newspapers?” Jin asks with a low voice as he rests against the table. His brother looks at him with worry and Jungkook wants to reassure him, but he can’t even reassure himself right now.

“Hyung it’s just… ___ is such a public person, I didn’t want to share something before I knew it was serious” Jungkook is thinking fast but Jin’s eyebrows stiffen as he scoffs.

“And you couldn’t trust me with that secret, your own brother?” Jin’s hurt, him dating a princess has gotten the company some weird scrutiny and he is worried about that as a CEO, but right now he’s more worried about his brother.

“It was not about trust, we were just in our own bubble” Jungkook’s answers are short because he’s still trying to think his way out of this. Jin walks and takes a seat beside him, “You do understand who you are dating right, because if this does go on, you’re promising to live a very public life?”

Jin’s question makes the migraine Jungkook’s has had for over a week, but he still musters up a bleak smile before he starts talking.

“I love her” Jungkook whispers, he doesn’t have the courage to lie about something so strong with his chest. But he can see that the simple statement is working as his brother eases and sits back on the sofa. Jungkook just did what ___ did during the dinner, a simple statement that made everyone on the table believe her.

“It’s amazing that you’ve found love, you deserve it, but are you sure you can take all the heat that comes with loving her?” Jin asks and Jungkook is starting to feel queasy with the word love being thrown around so casually.

“I um, I am not, I don’t know if I can take it all if I’m quite honest. It’s only been a week since we officially announced it and there are a few articles about me and my past that I don’t love” Jungkook stops for a second as he takes a deep shaky breath.

“But, I feel at ease when I’m around her, I’m always wondering what’s on her mind, when she smiles my problems don’t matter” Jungkook doesn’t know how he’s coming up with all this, maybe some lingering feelings from the day they first met. Jin is a bit blown away by all this, he came in hoping for all this to be nothing more than a fling but Jungkook’s words are wearing him down.

“Okay, so I guess we should arrange to meet her, you should invite her to mom and dad’s 25th anniversary celebration” Jin speaks and the terror returns to his eyes, how did he not anticipate this.

“Isn’t that too much, maybe just a dinner with you and Nari to start with” Jungkook knows he can’t keep her hidden from his family for much longer, especially when they’re making it look like a serious relationship.

“Sure, lets start there, next Saturday, at our place?” Jin asks as he stands up, it might be a Friday but there is still a ton of work that needs to be done.

“Okay, we’ll be there”

Yoongi is blabbing about how good a jacket fits but ___ could care less right now. She’s too focused as she scrolls on Instagram. People have made such cinematic edits, and the more shocking of them all are the video edits of Jungkook. People can be so creative with these and ___ just continues scrolling, not taking her eyes away even a bit.

“Clothes are just tailored better here, American brands don’t ever fit me like this” Yoongi speaks as he looks at himself in the mirror and that’s when he notices his sister hunched over her phone. Quietly, he walks by her and hunches over to see exactly what has taken her attention from shopping.

“Admiring your hot boyfriend, I can relate to that” Yoongi’s voice breaks her trance and she almost drops her phone, scrambling she checks if she didn’t accidently like the video, because that from her official profile would create some chaos.

“People are calling him the perfect hot nerd, I don’t know if that’s derogatory or not?” ___ asks referring to a specific edit of Jungkook in suits and glasses, she may have watched it one too many times.

“Hot nerd is good, do you know how rare it is for a man to be smart but also hot” Yoongi comments as the salesperson comes back with a rack of pants for him to try.

“Don’t call Jungkook hot, it’s weird” ___ exclaims with her knotted eyebrows and Yoongi just laughs as he picks up a few pieces and makes his way back into the dressing room.

“I’m stating a fact, come on, some appeal of being with Jungkook has to be how hot he is” Yoongi shouts and ___ is thankful that the owner closed the store just for them because of how embarrassing this is.

“Attractive, use attractive as the adjective” ___ interjects as she stands up herself, now that she was dragged here why not try on some jackets.

“Tell me the truth, the relationship started as a fling didn’t it. A man that hot doesn’t commit this quickly” Yoongi slides the curtains back as he looks at ___ with a cheeky smile and the blush on her face is giving him all the answers he needs.

“No it didn’t and again stop calling him hot” ___ mutters with gritted teeth as she puts on a leather jacket a few sizes too big.

“And given the article I read about his list of ex-girlfriends, he’s for sure not been into monogamy before you” Yoongi and ___ have always discussed her boyfriends of the past, this isn’t something new, but Yoongi talking about Jungkook like this feels very foreign.

“And given your skills in the bed room and I’m assuming his too-“ “Enough, we aren’t going to discuss that” ___ shouts with a stern look and very red ears. This is all the conformation Yoongi needed about this relationship being serious, ___ has always shared all the salacious details of her dating life, except once in the past when it was serious.

“That jacket is too bit for both you and Jimin” ___ notes as the sales person bills the leather jacket she had tried on earlier.

“Because it’s for Jungkook, who we are meeting for dinner, I can’t show up empty handed” Yoongi remarks and it takes a while for ___ to register what exactly was said.

“What? Why? When did you even? How did you get his number?” ___ asks as she scrambles to find her phone, she hadn’t checked her phone in a while because of all the shopping.

“Because I can’t leave without meeting him one-on-one, I got his number from Namjoon and he was quite frazzled when he picked up the call as well” Yoongi teases as ___ glares at Namjoon, her security officer isn’t explicitly told of the arrangement but he’s very perceptive and there is no way ___ would be dating someone without him knowing.

Just as she expected, there are a thread of panicked texts and a few missed calls from Jungkook. One text in all caps particularly stands out to her, WHY IS YOUR BROTHER CALLING ME

“When did you call him?” ___ asks and her voice is way too panicked. She is not prepared to pretend tonight, she isn’t mentally ready after what happened last night.

“Because you’ve been coming up with excuses to delay me meeting him properly, I went directly to the source” Yoongi’s tone is casual as he hands his card for all the damage made in just a few hours.

“He’s been busy-“ “Yes, but I’m your older brother, I need to check out the man who you seem to be making out on the streets” Yoongi teases and ___ flips him off as they make their way out.

“This is so sneaky of you” ___ whines as Namjoon and him continue to put the shopping bags in the car. ___ also texted Jungkook a He completely blindsided me and I’m so sorry to reassure him.

“Sneaky is your thing” “What’s that supposed to mean?” ___ asks with her crossed arms and Yoongi chuckles as he shuts the door behind him.

“You’re the one that kept him a secret for six months, I’m simply catching up” he remarks as he gets inside the car and ___ just huffs as she gives in.

Jungkook: Let’s just stick to the script and you handle the tough questions

___: Yes and again I apologise

Jungkook: My brother cornered me into invited you to dinner too

Jungkook: I may be a bit late, my workout went on longer than expected

___: It’s okay, I’ll see you there

They made their way to a hip new Italian restraunt from the backdoor, they are seated all the way in the back in an attempt to not gather too much attention. ___ is too nervous to focus on how cool the restraunt is, she’s trying to get back to pretend mode. She has to sell this relationship hard, because Yoongi can read her well and there can’t be any slip ups.

She’s chewing on her lip are Yoongi reads the wine list, her eyes are fixed on the backdoor, she’s hoping something comes up last minute and he has to cancel. The lights are dim but she can clearly see Jungkook walk closer to the table with a small smile.

“I am so sorry for being late” “You smell of cigarettes” Yoongi comments the second Jungkook extends his hand for a handshake. He had to calm himself down before this, he didn’t account for the smell.

“Well yes-“ “Is he the reason you started smoking again? What purpose does it even serve” Yoongi starts off with the same lecture and Jungkook smiles timidly as he takes a seat beside ___.

“Can you not, I am an adult, I can smoke if I want to and so can he” ___ is much more proactive today but she loses her cool for a second when Jungkook drapes his arm behind her chair, the closeness feeling even more suffocating.

“I don’t love the habit-“ “You have asthma for fucks sake, it is so bad for you” Yoongi interrupts Jungkook once again and he just clears his throat, this is clearly not off to a good start.

“I’m fine, can we just drop it” ___ ignores the two men as she picks up her menu and the two men do the same. The server comes and takes their orders promptly and more than enough food is ordered while the two siblings quietly continue to sip on their wine.

“So, I herd that you’re going on tour soon, that must be exciting” Jungkook can’t take the silence anymore, this is a whole new stubborn ___ he’s seeing today and he can’t take it anymore.

“Yes, 18 shows, I’m in town to finalizes some final details” Yoongi shares as the appetizers are served. The food distracts them for a while as the two men make some more small talk about the upcoming tour.

“How serious is this,” Yoongi asks as he gestures between the two of them with a fork, “Has she staked claim over a dresser at your place” Yoongi asks so casually but the two of them understand just how nuanced the question is.

“Space in my closet yes” Jungkook answers as he takes a big sip, completely emptying the wine glass. Yoongi is clearly satisfied, given his cheeky smile.

“There isn’t any of your stuff at her place, or even her room” Yoongi insinuates and ___ takes a deep breath while Jungkook takes a big bite, she’s answering this one

“Why were you snooping in my room?” “I was looking for moisturizer” Yoongi answers promptly, still waiting for an explanation.

“You use more skincare than me, you have moisturizer in your bag right now and Jungkook doesn’t come over at my place often, to keep a low profile” ___ answers and Yoongi nods with understanding, from his point of view, all of this looks good so far.

The rest of the dinner stiff with a few laughs here and there. Jungkook is sweating under his jacket as he realises just how unprepared the two of them are, at least they are good liars.

“What are the weekend plans?” Yoongi asks after explaining how he’s leaving for Japan tonight. “What do you want to do?” Jungkook asks almost instinctively and the blush on her cheeks reappears, not knowing what to say.

“Nothing, you probably need lots of rest, you’ve had a busy couple weeks” ___ says softly with a familiarity knowing that what she’s saying is what she actually means and not pretending right now.

Yoongi observes as the couple faintly exchange a few words every now and then, shuffling closer and closer as more wine is poured. ___ has this calmness when she talks to him that he hasn’t seen before, maybe being with Jungkook isn’t all that bad.

“My time at boarding school the greatest, those four years felt like one long sleepover with my best friends” ___ shares with Jin and Nari as Jungkook looks at her with awe, every day he learns something new about her.

“Did you not miss your family, your support system?” Nari asks with genuine curiosity and ___ chews her food a bit quicker to answer enthusiastically.

“I did at the start, but I was so busy with classes, sports, extra curriculars, it forced me to find a support system there” ___ shares as she eats another big spoonful of soup, she’s glad that they didn’t chose anything fancy for food but rather stuck to Korean food.

“I think it’s helped me so far in life very well, I read people well, I can acclimate to new situations better” ___ shares and Jungkook sits quietly as he observes her eating so well, he wonders if this dinner is her first meal of the day.

“Our kid isn’t even born yet but I can’t even bare the thought of being away from my child” Jin finally speaks up and ___ smiles widely at the expecting couple, Nari is currently four months pregnant and they are already in the protective parent mode.

“Wonik and Haein used to be like that but they are seriously considering boarding school for Jia” ___ shares ever so casually like she isn’t talking about the other two most important people in the country after her mother.

“Jia isn’t exactly the most low-profile person in the country, and the attention she’s been getting is definitely affecting her” there’s concern in ___’s voice as she shares, Jungkook wonders if the attention has been affecting her too.

“Being away from the country may let her have somewhat normal experiences while she can” ___ voice is soft as she recalls having this exact conversation with Haein a few months ago.

“It makes sense, the attention has been affecting me, it’s bound to affect a child” Jungkook finally chimes in and ___ turns and looks at him with worry.

“It has been?” the warmth in her voice catches Jungkook off guard, him almost choking on his rice with she places her hand on his. ___ quickly recoils from the foreign touch, going back to her rice like business as usual.

“Nothing I can’t handle-“ “He’s been enjoying the attention actually, cheesing on edits of himself” Jin chimes in and Jungkook snares at his older brother while ___ chuckles.

“Right in the middle of a stand-up meeting, mind you” Jin adds as the couple across the table cracks up while Jungkook goes red with embarrassment.

“Those editors are quite talented, making an average person like me look like royalty” ___ joins in the joke, her timing and sarcasm making everyone on the table laugh.

Jin’s starting to get why his brother is so enamoured with her. She’s likable, funny, confident, there’s something magnetic about her. He sees the way Jungkook steals glances every five seconds, like he can’t believe she’s sitting beside him.

Conversation flows from work to vacations to their upcoming child to the latest celebrity gossip. Jungkook’s glad any difficult questions that required sticking to the script didn’t come up, he wasn’t sure how well he could lie to two people he loves so much.

___ sighs deeply the second they enter the elevator, the dinner seemed to go on forever and it just added to the long day she had. The sigh concerns Jungkook, in his eyes this did go well, better than it did with Yoongi anyway.

“Did I come off too prepared? I asked Taehyung to prepare potential small talk, did I come off like I was reading off a script” ___ asks candidly and Jungkook goes back to the dinner, realising why she was steering the conversation in her ways, of course she prepared to keep up appearances.

“No, you did just fine” Jungkook comment and ___ sighs, just fine is clearly not good enough, no matter how hard she practices. Jungkook still finds it a bit strange with they go from acting like a couple in love to strangers standing next to each other.

“I’m supposed to be picking you up from university on Tuesday night, right?” Jungkook asks opening his calendar as they walk to her car. The familiarly in his voice now replaced with straightforwardness. Namjoon’s already waiting with an open door and she slides in, ready to head home already.

“Yes” “Alright, Tuesday, 6 pm ma’am” Jungkook leaves with a curt bow, his formality and walls come up every time it’s just the two of them.

It’s early March and the cold isn’t as mind melting as it was a few weeks ago, but it’s still cold. ___ hurried out of her apartment this afternoon, knowing she was running late for her lecture, and in that rush, she forgot about a jacket. Her thin sweater is doing the best it can, but the minute she walks out the lecture hall, the chill hits her spine.

“You wanna come out with us, they have a college festival going on in NSU, we’re thinking drinks after?” Yeonjun asks pointing to the rest of the people who look just ready to get drunk.

“I wish I could but I have some duties early tomorrow and my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up” ___ talks as Yeonjun chuckles walking right beside her. Yeonjun may be the first friend she’s made in Seoul, he doesn’t care that she’s a princess and that’s why she likes him.

“And we’re getting dinner afterwards-“ “Maybe also a bike ride around the city, how dangerous your royal highness” Yeonjun says and ___ looks at her confused but the realization hits her when she looks the way Yeonjun is.

Jungkook’s standing against his parked bike, the lose jeans and leather jacket are starkly different to the suits she’s used to seeing him in. His hair sits flat on his forehead while he continues to smoke the cigarette. He looks so different than he usually does and ___ doesn’t know how to act.

“Your smoker boyfriend can join us, maybe smoke something better than a cigarette” Yeonjun jokes as they walk closer to them, ___ playfully punches him and that’s the second Jungkook zeroes in on them.

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say to a royal princess young man” ___ jokes as they walk even closer, Jungkook is quick to put out his cigarette as he sees the two walking closer to him, he recognizes the man and according to the tabloids, he’s a friend of hers.

“Introduce us, do you talk to him about your rascal friend who you steal joints from sometimes?” Yeonjun jokes again as they cross the street and ___ almost pushes him off the crossing. Jungkook looks at him with mystery, the more he sees her, the more he realises just how much he doesn’t know much about her.

“Hey” ___ switches onto girlfriend mode quickly and seizes the distance with a quick peck on his cheek, Jungkook is a bit frazzled for a few seconds, he still doesn’t get how she acts so seamlessly.

“Hey” Jungkook jumps up and stands straight, he still finds it difficult to touch her, he feels like he isn’t allowed to. But he also knows that there are camera men all around, hiding somewhere, Han told him.

“Jungkook, this is Yeonjun, he is a business major but he likes to sit in psychology class because he’s evil” ___ introduces her friend and Jungkook can sense this familiarity between the two, he feels a twinge of some feeling he isn’t too sure about.

“It’s not for evil purposes, understanding psychology is key to any business” Yeonjun explains as the two men shake their hands. ___ looks at Jungkook, he’s particularly stiff today, she wonders if things are tough at the office.

“___ tells me that you guys have plans tonight but you should come to the party I’m throwing in Jeju, it’s my birthday and I sold my first company so I’m fat with money right now” Yeonjun talks confidently and ___ chuckles awkwardly as she kicks her friend.

“It’s happening next Saturday, you have to come, I need to pick your brain about that supremely successful business of yours” Yeonjun talks again and Jungkook is hyperaware that all he’s spoken so far is a soft, ‘hi’.

“I’ll have to check my calendar but I’ll try my best” Jungkook answers dryly as ___ rubs her hands together, if Yeonjun wasn’t such a social butterfly he would have caught up on this awkwardness.

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to your fairytale, royal highness” Yeonjun bows and turns around to the people waiting for him, Jungkook removes his jacket and slips it on ___, she shivered twice and he noticed.

“Thank you” ___ talks and it doesn’t sound so scripted, like she actually meant it. She remembers this jacket, it’s the one Yoongi gave to him.

Jungkook mumbled at a red light asking if she was hungry and ___ mumbled a no as she gingerly kept her hands around him. She’s scared and it’s very clear to him, he should have just driven his car.

The drive outside the city is starting to relax as the air starts to get thinner, the traffic more sparce and Jungkook easing up on the accelerator. Her fingers tightly grip onto his t-shirt, every now and then her hands graze his torso, making him lose his train of thought every time.

“There’s a place around the outskirts, they got the best ox tail soup” Jungkook shares as they stop at another red light, to his left he can see the passenger in the car clicking their pictures, this has happened a few times today.

“We can eat something local if you’re scared” Jungkook asks as he cracks his knuckles and ___ mumbles a small ‘it’s fine’ that’s interrupted by him reaching for her hands and placing them firmly around his torso. She’s taken aback by this movement, but at least her hands aren’t cold and safely under his t-shirt.

The sky is lit with orange hues of sunset as Jungkook kicks the stand and they finally stop. Sure ___ was scared at first, but midway she started focusing on the scenery around her and her hands weren’t cold anymore, she started enjoying it.

It’s Jungkook’s hands that are cold as she reaches over for help, the road outside is gravelled and she wore heels assuming they’d go to some regular restaurant.

“Namjoon, there’s a hoodie in the truck, can you bring that?” ___ turn around to ask Namjoon who nods as they’re seated in an old-style restaurant. A few eyes linger on them but thankfully they’re able to find a table in the back.

“It smells amazing” ___ comments as an older lady comes by to take their order. She is definitely starstruck given how much she’s fidgeting.

“Ox tail soup is my favourite, how long have you guys been running this restaurant?” ___ asks in an attempt to comfort her as Jungkook fills their cups with warm water.

 “My grandfather started it back in 1945, to make warm meals for truckers, now we have a lot of visitors from the city, wanting a respite” she answers with a warm smile.

“We only serve one thing, helps keep our costs low, so I will make sure that your soups are extra delicious” she jokes and ___ chuckles with charm, Jungkook watched how quickly ___ made a pretty nervous woman feel comfortable around her, she truly does some magic on people.

There’s quietness on the table as they eat, ___ spent years in boarding school where she picked up the habit of not talking while they eat and Jungkook doesn’t know what they could even talk about.

“You don’t have to come to the party, I’m sure you have a ton of work” ___ finally speaks up as they get a refill on their rice. The soup is actually fixing the migraine Jungkook’s had for a while now, but the mention of the party tenses him right back.

“Do you not want me there?” Jungkook’s tone isn’t accusatory and he’s trying very hard to mask it. ___ coughs as she chokes on the soup and Jungkook quickly refills her water and hands her a tissue.

“It’s not that, um” she stops to take a big gulp of her water, his eyes fixed on her all this while, “I don’t want to impose” “You aren’t, wouldn’t it be natural for your pretend boyfriend to be at a party with you” Jungkook speaks as he goes back to focusing on his soup and ___ is stumped about how to deal with this.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to come, I don’t want to force you to spend time with me when you don’t have to” ___ shares and the blank look on his face doesn’t give her any answers, he just goes back to eating.

“Ma’am the hoodie” Namjoon hands her a grey hoodie as they’re walking out the restaurant. She passes it onto Jungkook who puts it on right away, it takes a minute for it to click but ___’s starting to remember where the hoodie is from.

“Oh no, you can’t wear that” ___ stops him with a firm hand on his chest, he looks at her confused, waiting for her to explain herself.

“It’s one of my ex boyfriends, give me that, I’ll wear that and you wear your-“ “You wearing your ex boyfriends hoodie on a date with your current boyfriend is so much worse” Jungkook abruptly pulls the jacket around her, wanting to keep it put and pulling her closer in the process.

“Namjoon is there any other jacket there?” “No ma’am” ___ sighs as she breaks away from his grip, hopefully they don’t encounter any paparazzi who connect the dots.

“Which on does this belong to? Aiden, Hunter? Peter, is it William or Jaco-“ “It’s none of them” ___ huffs as she walks away and in a rare moment of honesty, Jungkook chuckles following her.

“You have dated a lot of rich, white men, a very specific type isn’t it” Jungkook continues the teasing as ___ leans against the bike, she had hoped that Jungkook wouldn’t come across those articles about her dating life, but be obviously has.

“Do you have a smoke?” “Ma’am there are paparazzi across the street, I’d advise against smoking” Namjoon interjects, but ___ still looks at Jungkook expectantly who just points to his jacket.

“Of course they are here, everywhere I breath they’re there, I can’t go to the doctor without being ambushed by them” ___ whines as she lights a cigarette, Jungkook turns around to access the situation, there are approximately 5 cameramen.

“Last week they caught me without makeup and now I have plastic surgery recommendations from netizens, I get a pimple sometimes, am I not a human” Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches her, really watches her. People scrutinize him, sure, but they don’t pick apart every inch of his body, every breath he takes, every tiny imperfection they can find. He isn’t expected to be flawless. She is.

“Do you ever wish that you weren’t born into the circumstances that you were?” Jungkook’s question is nuanced, he’s though about this a thousand times thought his life. To his surprise she smiles as she passes him the cigarette.

“I wish I wasn’t born sometimes” ___ answers as she pulls the jacket tighter, “My first memory is of my grandfather telling me that I belong to the people, even before I belong to myself” ____ shares and Jungkook is stumped by all this, he expected a joke, snarky comment, even some truth, but he didn’t expect this kind of vulnerability.

“He told me, my name, my face, my choices, none of them belong to me. Every breath I take is for my service to the people” ___ continues talking and Jungkook takes a long drag.

There’s a long silence as they continue to share the cigarette, but it isn’t odd or uncomfortable. For the first time today Jungkook feels comfortable with her, probably because of how vulnerable she has been.

“People are comforted by your presence, I saw how you were with the lady in there” Jungkook talks as he puts out the cigarette. “If someone else were born as the princess, the people would have missed out on you”

Jungkook’s compliment sits heavy with her, that’s all she can think about on her way back. The bike ride stretches on, the city lights flickering in the distance, but her thoughts keep drifting back to his words. He spoken so easily, without pretence, without needing anything in return.

Monday mornings are very important to Jungkook, he uses the day to set the right tone for the week. All his meetings are usually scheduled for Mondays, he wakes up extra early to get a long workout in. But today instead of driving directly to the office, he has an unexpected pit stop.

The apartment is completely dark, Taehyung stumbles upon some heels the moment he walks into the living room. There is half eaten food on the dining table and a spilled water right by her room.

“What happened here?” Taehyung asks as he picks up the now spilled bottle of water, “She came back from Jeju this early this morning and has been in her room ever since” Namjoon answers walking into the kitchen and plops a rag on the water before someone slips on it.

“Oh, that party, god the pictures have caused so much frenzy, she makes my life so difficult” Taehyung grumbles as he knocks again.

“She’s allowed to let lose sometimes, and it was just drinking and some smoking, my security team made sure that there weren’t any drugs there” Namjoon defends ___ as he knocks too. The doorbell rings and Namjoon immediately walks away to open the door.

“Your royal highness” “Go away, I’m dead” ___ grumbles as she turns around in the bed, her head feels heavy, she feels weak, she’s thrown up twice since she got home but she’s still nauseous.

“Ma’am we’re here for the meeting, you asked for us to be here” Taehyung talks through the door. Jungkook walks into the apartment, he’s never been here and he too almost stumbles on some luggage.

“Taehyung I’m dying, you should be out there applying for new jobs” ___ yells but it’s pretty muffled as she wraps her entire body in the warm duvet. She’s cold but also hot, her brain doesn’t work anymore.

“If you’re sick you need to let us in-“ “The door isn’t locked” ___ cries out and Namjoon comes and opens the door for them. The inside isn’t much better, all the lights are on, the door to the bathroom is open, the tap is running for some reason, and there’s a lit cigarette on an ash tray and an half empty bottle of vodka on the side table.

“What happened?” Taehyung asks as he gingerly walks closer to the bed to put out the cigarette before it starts a fire. Jungkook watches all this as he rests against the doorframe, this is a lot for Monday morning.

“Can you save the stupid question for later, given I don’t die” ___ speaks as pulls the duvet down. Taehyung sighs as he crouches down to her level.

“Mr Kook and I are here for the meeting” Taehyung speaks softly and she grumbles as she tries to stand up and failing twice, she may still be drunk.

“It’s fine, we can do the meeting tomorrow if she’s hungover” Jungkook’s voice is hurting her head but she peeps and realises there are three men in her room and she doesn’t remember if she put on her pyjama pants.

“I am so sorry for disrupting your mornings, but this will be a nice memory to remember me by when I’m dead” Jungkook can’t help but chuckle as he watches ___ struggle with turning around, she just gives up and lies back down.

“Okay, this works out because I have people from the press waiting in my office” Taehyung practically runs out the room and Namjoon picks up the duvet and covers her feet properly.

“How bad is it, the sophomore year Halloween party or the freshman year Halloween party?” Namjoon’s voice booms from the foot of the bed and ___ is starting to get nauseous again.

“This is the new worst, Namjoon what if I die, of too much vodka” ___ cries out and Jungkook chuckles again and she glares at him, she’s too hungover to care about how bad this looks.

Namjoon is amused as Jungkook rummages through the kitchen, he opens a few drawers and sighs out loud at the empty fridge.

“I’m sure she’ll apologies about this late cancellation tomorrow-“ “Namjoon can you have someone do a grocery run, and stop at a pharmacy?” Jungkook asks looking around for something to write the list of stuff on.

“You’re staying, I’m sure you’re needed back at the office” Namjoon retorts picking up a notepad and pen from the study and handing it. Jungkook quickly jots a few things down and hands the list to Namjoon.

“It’s fine, she has duties this afternoon, doesn’t she?” “Yes, she’s and the rest of the royal family are hosting a lunch for the US president at 1” Namjoon answers and Jungkook nods removing his jacket and rolling his sleeves.

“So, we have five hours for her to be not hungover and drunk-“ “She’s drunk?” “There was a half empty bottle of vodka by her bed, she’s definitely still drunk” Jungkook answers and picks up his buzzing phone.

“Yes, Han my text read right, I’ll come to the office by lunch” Jungkook speaks as he leans against the kitchen counter. “I understand that the dev team came into the office especially for a meeting, just tell them my girlfriend is sick, it’ll remind them to have a life outside of work”

Namjoon and a few other members soon bring in all the things that Jungkook asked for. He’s had a few wild nights himself and the formula is simple, something for hydration, something for the upset stomach and something to throw up.

Jungkook’s back in her room and she is clearly asleep evidenced by the soft snores. He makes his way to the bed and places the green smoothie by the bed stand.

“Ma’am, it’s almost 11, you need to get up” Jungkook speaks softly as he removes the duvet from her face, most of it still hidden with her tousled hair. She doesn’t wake up right away, but murmurs something as she turns away.

“___” Jungkook speaks again as he takes a seat on the bed, this is foreign territory to him, being in her home, in her room, sitting on her bed. He could have easily just left for office, but he didn’t.

“Taehyung why are you here, start planning my funeral” ___ mumbles and Jungkook laughs, she jerks up when she recognises the laugh.

“Why, why, um why are you here?” her voice is coarse and the world is spinning, she blinks rapidly not knowing is she’s dreaming this.

“Because you called you yesterday and asked me to help you” Jungkook voice is low and calm, breaking through the fog of confusion she’s clearly in.

“I did,” “Yes, now drink this, crucial first step” Jungkook says as he picks up the big glass full of green smoothie while ___ tries to get her hair out of her face.

“Do I have to?” ___ asks as she painfully holds her head, she would be embarrassed about Jungkook seeing her in this condition but the hangover is using up all her brain cells right now.

“Yes, drink up” Jungkook holds up the glass in front of her and she complies. She sips it slowly, the taste not as bad as she expected, though it's still hard to ignore the strong taste of vegetables that makes her stomach churn slightly.

“This will fix this?” she asks handing Jungkook back the empty glass, “No this will make you throw up” Jungkook answers as he stands up and ___ scowls, the liquids already churning in her stomach.

“WHY?” “Because I have a fool proof plan, I’ll leave the door closed but don’t you dare go back to sleep”

___ puts up her hair in a towel and fastens her bath gown before she steps out the room. She doesn’t feel all better now but it’s still so bad. She tightens the belt of her bathrobe again, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious as she steps into the open space. Jungkook is leaning against the counter, sleeves still rolled up, scrolling through his phone like he belongs here. Like it’s normal.

“That helped, didn’t it?” Jungkook asks coming over with another glass of something, she’s more hesitant taking this glass this time because she possibly can’t throw up any more.

“Will this make me throw up?” “No, it’s coconut water, sip on it slowly and eat this” Jungkook instructs as she takes a seat on the dining table, she doesn’t have any energy to keep standing.

“Dry toast? Greasy food helps with hangovers?” ___ asks as Jungkook takes the seat beside her, “That’ll upset your stomach”

She sips on the coconut water, the cool liquid soothing her throat. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she says, her voice quieter now.

Jungkook sits back his arms crossed, “You called,” he repeats, as if that alone explains everything.

She doesn’t remember much from last night, but she remembers that—reaching for her phone, his name the first one she thought of. She wonders what exactly she said, what kind of mess she dragged him into, but she doesn’t have the courage to ask.

___ puts up her hair in a towel and fastens her bath gown before she steps out the room. She doesn’t feel all better now but it’s still so bad. She tightens the belt of her bathrobe again, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious as she steps into the open space. Jungkook is leaning against the counter, sleeves still rolled up, scrolling through his phone like he belongs here. Like it’s normal.

“That helped, didn’t it?” Jungkook asks coming over with another glass of something, she’s more hesitant taking this glass this time because she possibly can’t throw up any more.

“Will this make me throw up?” “No, it’s coconut water, sip on it slowly and eat this” Jungkook instructs as she takes a seat on the dining table, she doesn’t have any energy to keep standing.

“Dry toast? Greasy food helps with hangovers?” ___ asks as Jungkook takes the seat beside her, “That’ll upset your stomach”

She sips on the coconut water, the cool liquid soothing her throat. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she says, her voice quieter now.

Jungkook sits back his arms crossed, “You called,” he repeats, as if that alone explains everything.

She doesn’t remember much from last night, but she remembers that—reaching for her phone, his name the first one she thought of. She wonders what exactly she said, what kind of mess she dragged him into, but she doesn’t have the courage to ask.

The makeup and hair team keep her busy as she dozes off in the chair, Jungkook periodically picks up some work calls while he’s busy moving around in her kitchen. Jungkook doesn’t cook very often, most of his meals are delivered to the office but he can still make some porridge.

“Thank you for all this” ___ is back to her graceful self as she takes a seat back on the dining table in her matching tweed set. Jungkook looks at her, now perfectly put together, as if the dishevelled, hungover mess from earlier never existed. It’s almost comical how seamlessly she���s slipped back into her role as the royal princess.

“Even tho you didn’t have to” ___ talks as she plays around with the porridge, she isn’t too sure if she trusts her stomach yet. But she still gingerly takes a small bite and it instantly helps her.

“Feeling better? Because you definitely look better” Jungkook speaks as he continues to clean up around the apartment.

“I definitely don’t feel like death anymore” ___ speaks as she takes another bite, she hadn’t realised how hungry she was till she started eating. To her surprise, Jungkook comes over with a bowl of food for himself and starts eating. All this is way to domestic and she’s not used to it.

“Ma’am the car is ready for you, also the coffee you ordered” Namjoon speaks placing the coffee by Jungkook. He may know how to cook, but he doesn’t know how to operate her complicated coffee machine.

“This one’s for you,” Jungkook places a cup in front of her and she’s the happiest seeing coffee, “Namjoon told me that you prefer iced coffee but a hot latte will help right now” Jungkook explains as he picks up his as well as her utensils.

They step into the elevator, their coffees in each their hand and to an onlooker they may look like any regular couple on their way to work. The quiet hum of the elevator fills the space between them, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. She takes a careful sip of the latte, the warmth spreading through her, easing the last remnants of this hangover.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, your office?” ___ asks as they step out their building, “Yes, and no drinking for the next 48 hours” Jungkook jokes as he fishes out his car keys from his jacket. They’re both back on their own way, but ___ wonders what caused her to call him at 4 am, why did he even pick up. Jungkook had no obligation to be there. He had no reason to put his entire morning on hold just to make sure she was okay. And yet, he did.

The panic ___ feels is getting worse and worse as she walks through the palace. The old doors creak as she forces them open but she finally spots her mother sitting in one of the many reading rooms.

“You’re out of breath” her father comments but doesn’t look up and ___ catches her breath and takes a seat across them. The queen knew ___ would come to see them, just wasn’t aware that she would be so panicked.

“So, it’s Jungkook’s parent’s 25th anniversary soon and I’m invited, but attending a party full of people would be fine, at most I’d just have to impress then for ten minutes top. But his mother called and insisted that I join them a day early, just with the family and I think I’m having a panic attack” ___ huffs and takes a deep breath as one of the servants comes and hands her a glass of water.

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” the queen asks as she removes her reading glasses and closes her book.

“No, it’s terrifying,” ___ responds quickly, wrapping both hands around the cold glass. “What if I say something wrong? What if I mess up some tradition I don’t know about? What if they don’t like me?”

Her father finally looks up from his newspaper, arching a single brow. “You do realize you’re a princess, don’t you? People are literally trained to like you.”

___ groans, sinking deeper into the chair. “It’s different. This isn’t just public appearances or charming a crowd for ten minutes. This is his family. They’ll see right through me.”

Her mother watches her carefully, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You like him.”

___’s head snaps up. “What?” “You like him,” the queen repeats, tilting her head slightly. “If this were just another obligation, you wouldn’t be panicking like this.”

“I—No, that’s not—” ___ stumbles over her words before shutting her mouth entirely. She looks away, staring at the heavy curtains instead, but the warmth creeping up her neck betrays her.

Her mother hums knowingly. “You’ll be fine. You were raised to handle situations far worse than a family dinner. Just be yourself.”

Her father who’s still reading his newspaper replies “And don’t be weird about it.” ___ groans again, sitting back. “Great advice, thanks.”

“It’s great that things are going well with the two of you” the queen talks as she continues taking small sips of her tea. “Yeah great, so great, fantastic” ___’s voice is still panicked as she finishes off the glass of water and reaches for a cookie.

“It’s too bad that things with Wonik and Haein are so turbulent right now” the queen shares and ___ stops chewing the cookie.

“They are?” “I don’t know the details but there have been one too many loud arguments. Jia was crying about her parents fighting to the school counsellor.” The queen is worried as she puts her tea cup down. It’s more than just her son and daughter in law fighting, it’s the future king and queen having marriage trouble.

“I am sure they will figure it out, they have to” her father chimes in and ___ sighs sitting up straight.

“What if they don’t?” ___ asks with genuine curiosity, when they got married ten years ago Wonik wasn’t the king in waiting, they couldn’t have possibly thought how differently things would be.

“It’s a royal marriage in a country with low marriage rates, the future king can’t be a divorced” her father chimes in as he finally closes his newspaper, “So, they have to work to have a functioning marriage, even if it resembles an arrangement” the last bit seems to be directed solely at ___, the last word weighing heavy on her.

Jungkook is deep in sleep around 4 in the morning, his alarm doesn’t go off for another two hours but his phone is already buzzing against his cheek. He barely opens his eyes, but they jolt open the second he reads the name of the caller.

“Fucking finally, I’ve called you like a hundred times already” ___’s voice booms from the other side and Jungkook groans putting the call on speaker as he lies back down.

“For the record, I wanted you there, in Jeju with me but I didn’t want to force you to spend time with me, it is very clear to me that this is all an arrangement” ___ slurs on her words but it’s the hurt in her words that Jungkook’s more focused on.

“I am sorry that because of my lapse of judgement has caused you a suffering life time with me” she says, her words carrying more weight than he’s prepared for. Jungkook’s chest tightens, and his stomach twists in response to the vulnerability she’s exposing, but all he can do is listen. There’s nothing else he can say right now, not with the hurt so evident in her voice.

“But for once can I be selfish, can you take care of me tomorrow, pretend like you actually care because the way I’ve been drinking,” she stops talking and Jungkook can hear her taking a long sip of her drink.

“Because I’m going to get real depressed tomorrow, having to take care of myself in that lonely apartment that feels like a hotel, I can’t cry myself to sleep one more night, I want a day of rest from this loneliness that eats me alive” ___ rambles and Jungkook takes a long sharp breath, his heart sinks as her words hit him with a weight he wasn’t ready for. The rawness in her voice, the way she’s spilling her emotions, it catches him off guard. He had always known she carried a lot, but hearing it laid out like this—it’s impossible to ignore.

“Okay, I’ll be there, I promise you won’t have to do tomorrow by yourself”

Tag List - Tag List - @soblavk @livingkoalaface @solastica @futuristicenemychaos @yooforeaa @11thenightwemet11 @rkivestation

[velvet-apricots]

A series of Codexs i wrote about my Rook. Taken from this post.

Note found in Rook’s pocket

A note of poetry with deep creases indicating its been folded and unfolded many times. The lettering is written in a neat, loopy cursive in emerald green ink

Eyes of spring beheld by my eyes of winter

Hair of autumn betwixt my weathered fingers

Lips like berries and all for me to devour

My clever bird, my darling Rook

May your hands forever more hold my heart

For as long as it remains beating

E.V

An entry from Rook’s journal

I dreamed about Weisshaupt the other night. All those Wardens we couldn’t help. Davrin said there were a thousand of them. Now there are only a quarter of that. Solas said it was a victory. I don’t know what to think.

Varric said it helps to say or write out what did go right so-

I got to punch the First Warden in the face

An Archdemon is dead. 

Davrin is alive. 

Ghilan’nain is mortal. 

That's four good things. I am particularly glad that Davrin is alright. 

Solas also said that I may have to sacrifice someone to win. I said that I was ready… But I am not. I refuse to let that happen. No one in my team will die. Call it childish, but I won’t be like him. I am already on the right track, given Davrin somehow got out not dead. No idea why, but Bellara says it probably has to do with Ghilan’nain being out of the fade and back in the real world. Something about the soul and stuff.

I don’t remember. I’m not smart like her.

Rook's Shopping List

A list written in a messy scrawl that drifts downward across the page.

Lucanis, please buy these for me. I have to go somewhere with Bellara. No time to get it myself. I left some money to pay for it.

Lipstick. Cherry red. (For me. Last pot was dropped into blighted water. Davrin said I should throw it away.)

Pistachios. Roasted and salted (for me to snack on)

Chocolate (also for me. I need it)

Honey (to make honey roasted almonds as we have way to many of them now)

Beans (for Emmrich. He can't just eat yams and fruit)

Several sacks of Flour (also for Emmrich. Needed for Seitan)

Jam, preferably cherry or apple (for Harding, wants me to try her ham and jam slams again with “proper jam”. Pray for me.)

Spicy Peppers (For Taash to add to their food)

A message between two companions about Rook

A series of messages written in Davrin and Neve’s handwriting.

Should we be worried about Rook? She keeps talking about Varric like he’s still around. - Davrin

What do you mean by “like he’s still around”? - Neve

I mean she’s saying stuff like “I am going to go talk to Varric” then she goes and talks at his stuff like he's actually there. But he's not. He’s dead. Doesn’t that bother you? - Davrin

I have seen people react to loss in similar ways in my work. They talk to the person they lost like there are there. To help them sort their thoughts. It’s a form of coping with grief. I am sure Emmrich would be able to explain it better than I can. - Neve

And watch him fuss over her like a mother hen at dinner? Not a chance. - Davrin

Letter from Rook to their love interest

Emmrich,

Amatus. That's all I want to call you. It's all I chant in my head (along with your name). I feel like a little girl gushing over a boy who shoved mud in her face (not that you ever would).

I can’t write poetry but I can tell you that I want to call you Amatus. Do you know what that means? It means beloved. That is what you are to me.

When we next meet in private. I want you to leave with my name chanting in your head too. Not Rook. But my real name. I think you will like my name. It’s a flower, and you like flowers. 

- The letter is signed with a lipstick mark.

A letter to Rook from a family member or close friend

A letter lost in the chaos of Elgar’nan’s attack on Minrathous. Stained with blood and blight, sealed with the wax seal of Legatus Charon Mercar

My Sweet Rabbit,

Never apologize. You did what you had to.

I will be waiting for you in Ventus. Do not die. You are not allowed to. Not until I see you again.

Love, 

Papa

A note/letter that Rook never sent

An unsent, unfinished letter. Crumpled up and left near the fireplace.

Dear Hawke,

I hope this letter finds you well. You do not know me, but I knew Varric, and you through him. I am Rook, and I traveled with him to stop Solas. I knew him for only six months, but I considered him a wonderful friend and a great mentor.

I send you this letter to tell you that 

I regret to inform you 

I am grieved to say 

Harding probably already told you that

He meant a lot to me

 I have his belongings still and 

The remainder of the letter carries on the same way until there is no more room to write.

[dearweirdme]

Jk didn’t kiss Tae at the airport and Tae didn’t kiss Jk’s nape on stage. These are conclusions you come to when you don’t bother to have a good understanding of the members and their habits. Jk either tripped (most likely option) or he his whispered or sniffed Tae’s hair. He was even wearing a mask. How do you kiss someone with a mask on? Even if he was excited because it was Tae’s birthday, he couldn’t wait until they were in private? Tae didn’t kiss Jk’s nape. He sniffed it which is something he actually does quit abit. There is no way in hell you believe that Taekook are a closeted couple and you spend all that time talking about SK and how it deals with queer people yet you believe that Jk would kiss Tae at an airport full of people and cameras. Yes queer people who are closeted are human which means they can slip up sometimes but slipping up doesn’t include kissing someone at a crowded place like an airport with multiple media houses present. Taekookers would make excuses about Tae and Jk not spending certain days or moments together and blame it on them being closeted yet the same people would claim that jk kissed Tae at an airport. How does that even make sense to you? There is literally no reason to do that except they decided to come out. You see sense in it because it is Taekook but if this was another suspected couple we were discussing you would have been swearing about how queer people can’t even admit to talking to each other or seeing each other on certain days because they are closeted in a homophobic country. This shows that you don’t even believe your own arguments but only make them to debunk other ships.

I know that you might start talking about queer people being human or having moments where they don’t give af and I agree but those moments will never include openly kissing at a very public place with the media present unless they are ready to come out. Arguing this fact means you don’t even know the first thing about the closeted people or so rules you talk about 24/7. Apply the logic you use in debunking other ships to your own ship. These rules don’t only apply to others.

Hi anon!

I’m actually very consistent and my views on Tae and Jk and their closeting. I don’t see it as something that’s stagnant for one. I think throughout the years the way they have dealt with their closet has changed from pretty serious to more free (though still with boundaries for sure). I’d say that’s a normal way of development when you allow for the idea that they don’t actually want to be closeted in their hearts. They have learned not only how they themselves come across as a couple, but also the ways fandom will react to them. They know where and when there’s space there and at times I think they take some of that space at times.. because feelings speak louder rational thoughts at times. And yes that is them being human. They weren’t openly kissing. Jk gave Tae a kiss at the back if his head. At most (outside of tkkrs) the response would have been that they are cute and he loves his brother so much. As lovely and cute as I might feel the moment is.. there is absolutely room for people to say it’s not romantic.

‘Apply the logic you use debunking other ships…’ let’s be real, there’s only one ship I debunk. And there’s a fast difference between Jk giving Tae a kiss like that (a small fleeting moment) and giving two members the spotlight by sending them to do a travelshow together, and two members enlisting together. Jkk isn’t real on many levels, it’s just not in their interactions for me.. I wouldn’t even need to use the closeting argument to point that out.

The whole thing is though, that it’s not about what it’s supposed to look like, but it’s about what we see. Their situation is unique, so it’s not actually weir or impossible to see things that we would normally not expect from others in the same kind of situation.